The Selkie Man
by DarkBlueBella
Summary: AU. A summer studying Scottish folktales leads to Bella Swan meeting a stranger unlike anyone she has ever met. Can she let herself believe that myth and legend might also be reality?
1. An Island Wedding

Thank you to my nano buddy and ever patient beta Dellaterra. Thanks also to my prereader Hoochiemomma.

Readers, this is an AU story but contains no vampires.

This chapter was inspired by the traditional Orkney tale about a tragic bride called Helen Waters but all the words are my own work.

Disclaimer: S Meyers own the Twilight characters, I'm just borrowing them.

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Orkney Islands, North Scotland, 1890

An island wedding was always a grand affair. The women gathered together to stitch dresses and decorate the beams of the barn with garlands of flowers while the men looked forward to sharing the home-brewed whisky from the dark-pitched casks. With a feast to prepare and fiddlers to organize, the bride's home was a center of happy activity and the clacking of women's tongues.

The wedding preparations for the union of Isobel Eunson and Charles Macleod were no exception. The wedding was set for early summer, once the harsh winter was over and the spring showers and chill winds were less likely to ruin the festivities. The island community was relieved to have something to look forward to after the desolate, biting winter, during which darkness covered the land more often than light. Only a few lives had been lost to illness and old age and the Orcadians were a people stoic in their acceptance of death. But they were equally glad to be heralding the light after the darkness, anticipating months of sun-long days and barely dark nights, the days filled with gentler breezes and the smell of summer flowers in the hedgerows. And a wedding was the best of all celebrations, a chance to dress in their finery and congratulate the young couple while exchanging gossip and drams with neighbors.

Isobel and Charles had been acquainted all their lives, paying little heed to each other in their childhood years. It was as young adults that they began to smile shyly at one another, to wonder what the other was thinking. Arranging a match on a small island was usually a straightforward affair but for Isobel and Charles there was the added advantage that they felt genuine attraction and mutual admiration for each other. This was a match that may actually include love and devotion. Charles was quick to learn that making Isobel laugh by telling her a joke or presenting her with flowers he had picked for her instilled in him a feeling unlike any he had previously encountered in his nineteen years. Seeing her smile at him was like finding a pearl in an oyster; it was a precious gift which made him feel like a rich man. For her part, Isobel found herself paying attention to her mother's efforts to teach her the art of running a small cottage, for she could suddenly envision herself as the young wife of Charles. When a nervous Charles took his Sperin' bottle and asked for Isobel's hand in marriage, her father gladly agreed to the match. Everything was as it should be.

Half the island, or more, was coming to the wedding. The tension in the week before was palpable, with Morag, the bride's mother, fretting about the huge array of food to be prepared and the number of benches needed to be borrowed for the feast of beef, mutton, rabbit, duck, and goose. There was soup to be made too, and oatcakes, barleymeal bannocks, pancakes and scones to be baked. It was customary for island weddings to last three or four days and Morag knew her neighbors would have something to say if her hospitality was found lacking. Iain, Isobel's father, tried to stay out of the way, contenting himself by tasting home-brewed ale each night, just to check that it was suitable for imbibing.

The bride and groom barely had a moment alone in that week. The wedding nerves were encroaching on them too, until they could hardly look at each other without blushing a deep shade of crimson. It was with some relief that Charles' father ordered him to take the small rowing boat and instructed him to row to the island across the sound and invite the few families who lived there to the wedding feast.

Charles took his gun and set off. Before he left he kissed Isobel chastely and promised to return with a clutch of birds, an early wedding gift. She watched him climb down to the beach and push the boat out into the water. He rowed strongly and steadily across the calm waters and soon he was only a tiny dot in the middle of the blue, blue sea.

When he arrived on the island of Hoy he was quickly and warmly greeted, his hosts most delighted to have a visitor and an invitation to attend a happy occasion. Whisky was poured and gossip was exchanged. Later Charles headed out with two companions and they hunted for the wild birds he had promised Isobel. But the birds were not to be found and the shooting was poor. Galvanized by the alcohol and the talk that was constantly thrust upon him about the end of his single days, Charles suggested a trip to a more distant island, Sule Skerry; such an unpopulated and deserted place would be bound to afford them better shooting. The others agreed readily, keen for adventure away from the watchful eyes of their elders.

The following morning, with the promise to return by the next day, the three young men set out in their rowing boat. Their mood was exuberant and their chatter was rowdy. Their boat was seen rowing out to Sule Skerry, the waters chopping slightly but the sun rising steadily in the sky with only fluffy white clouds to break up the endless blue of the early summer sky.

When the groom had not returned after three days, his parents began to worry, planning the scolding he would receive on his return. No one uttered any of this to Isobel, who was told to stand up straight on the wooden stool while the hem of her wedding gown was stitched. The bride's grandmother clicked her knitting needles, finishing a beautiful woolen shawl for the bride to wear when the evening dimmed Isobel's wedding day and turned it to night. She cast her eyes down and said not a word about the cold, unforgiving sea that had taken so many of the island's young men, including her own husband thirty years before.

By the fourth day a party of men left the mainland and sailed to Hoy to inquire if Charles had reached there safely. When they discovered that he had, and then had ventured on to Sule Skerry, they looked at each other with heavy faces and sorrowful eyes. But Orkney men were pragmatic and never felt inclined to express in words that which was obvious. Nevertheless it was with heartfelt sadness that they climbed in their boat again and crossed the waters to the remote, desolate island.

As their vessel rounded the outcrop of sharp, jagged rocks into a natural harbor, they saw Charles' boat almost straightaway, tied to a post and bobbing gently in the waves. Without speaking they rowed up alongside the empty dinghy and went shore, tying their boat securely. Then they began to climb the path leading away from the landing place.

It was only when they saw Charles' gun and the hat of one of the other young men lying haphazardly on the ground that they began to shout and call. But there was no answer. They searched the island and found nothing, no trace of the men or any of their other belongings. One rowed back to recruit more men to help with a search party but it was no use. The three men were nowhere to be found.

Isobel Eunson stood in her wedding dress with flowers in her hair, waiting for her groom to arrive home so the wedding could begin. She stood at the window and watched the sea rolling back and forth. She ignored the quiet, worried whisperings of her aunts and neighbors and paid no attention to the crying of her mother. She stood at the window and waited. Even when the men returned from the boat, walking from the beach to the house with slumped shoulders and dread in their footsteps, she stood and waited.

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A/N

Sperin' bottle – the bottle of liquor the hopeful young man would take to the father of his sweetheart when he asked for her hand.

dram - a small drink of whisky

bannock – a flat homemade cake

Updates should be fairly frequent. I would love a review if you enjoyed it or have a comment.


	2. The Journey

Huge thanks to my beta Dellaterra who gives up her time to keep me right. Thank you to my pre-reader HoochieMomma, who read this and said nice things. Any remaining mistakes are mine.

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Bella Swan first learned of her relatives' story only when contemplating upon a destination for the travel scholarship that she had an inkling to apply for. Before then she had had no idea that her family had such a sad and tragic story in their past, and it seemed fitting to spend the summer in Orkney in homage to the lost love of Isobel and Charles. Bella had only a vague idea of what a summer in the Orkney islands would be like. Nevertheless, she was able to write a convincing proposal for how she would spend her time writing her novel as part of her Master's thesis in creative writing while researching folk tales of the islands. She even threw in some verbiage about comparing her findings to traditional North American folklore, although she had no idea how achievable that would be. The panel approved her proposal and Bella once again thanked her lucky stars for her ability to use the written word to make her sound far more intelligent than she thought she really was.

Her parents, Charlie and Renee, breathed an inner sigh of relief that Bella would not be backpacking around some dangerous, hot, malaria-ridden part of the world where she would be a target for heat exhaustion, muggers, and all other manner of travel disasters. No, it was far more palatable to think of Bella on a remote Scottish island, where the locals would keep an eye on her and feed her shortbread. The Internet provided further reassurance, informing them that Orkney was an overnight boat trip from Aberdeen, with a total population of 20,000 people spread across the main island and myriad smaller islands, which varied in population relative to their retreating location into the North Sea. There was one main town, Kirkwall, which seemed to offer the basics for what tourists required, with some shops, a cinema and leisure center, a stone-built cathedral and a small selection of hotels and restaurants. The rest of the islands contained a scattering of houses, churches and schools with enough historical interest to keep visitors amused until the ferry - or an airplane from the small airstrip on the Mainland - whisked them back to modern civilization. Yes, Charlie and Renee couldn't help but feel relieved that their daughter, the unworldly-wise and inexperienced traveler, chose Orkney as her destination.

Charlie had never been to Scotland, let alone traveled as far north as the Orkney Isles. But he knew enough of his family's history to tell the story of the never-explained disappearance of Charles Macleod. He explained to Bella how the small remote island had been searched high and low several times over, but no trace of the three men was ever found. He knew that when Isobel was told Charles was missing and presumed dead, she refused to take off her wedding dress, wearing it until the flowers in her hair had wilted and broken. She continued to wait, never speaking a word, until the day she removed the dress, threw it into the ocean, and returned to the house to join her mother making bread in the kitchen. She never spoke of it again and three years later married a different man. They had children and lived peacefully thereafter. Charlie Swan was one of Isobel's descendants and bore the name of the man who should have been one of his ancestors.

The weeks before Bella's departure found her packing clothes and books into a backpack and fretting over whether the island would be able to provide a decent Internet connection. A few e-mail messages assured her that her laptop would be able to keep her connected with the rest of the world, although Bella felt a slight twinge of guilt about her Internet addiction. Going to a small, remote island really should afford her the perfect opportunity to go cold turkey for a while.

Good-byes were relatively short and uncomplicated, much to Bella's relief. The long journey from Seattle to London was uncomfortable and tedious, yet Bella was thrilled to be traveling at last. There was something satisfying about being on her way to such a tiny pinprick of a place, a small dot on a huge world map, and being on the other side of the Atlantic, far from everyone – and everything - she had ever known.

Landing in London was a welcome opportunity to stretch her legs and walk off the cramped, cooped up feeling that develops on long-haul flights. Her wait for her connecting flight allowed her enough time to browse the airport shops and panic buy a few last items. Bella was suddenly flooded with doubts about the remoteness of where she was headed, despite her rational side trying to reassure her that the people of Orkney managed fine, and so would she. After hours of shopping for several more last-minute items – buying some and resisting others – she boarded her next flight to Aberdeen, where the distinctive Scottish accent first began to reach her ears.

Bella had opted for the overnight ferry from Aberdeen to Kirkwall rather than another flight and she was very grateful for the small but hot shower in the tiny berth she had booked. The crossing was reportedly calm, although it felt incredibly lively to Bella's inexperienced sea legs. As the ship sliced through rough seas, she crawled into the narrow bunk and waited for it to carry her to her final destination.

Waking on the third morning of her long journey from Forks, Washington, she was relieved to see land through the round windows of her cabin. She had made it five thousand miles across the northern hemisphere and couldn't help but be pleased with her achievement of reaching her destination without any mishaps. Gathering together her belongings, she stepped up onto the deck and breathed in the cool, salty air. The sky seemed to hold the promise of sun breaking through and seagulls, squawking greedily, swooped around the line of fishing boats visible on the other side of the harbor.

Walking onto the gangway she scanned the people waiting below. Various travelers were being reunited with loved ones, some tourists were collecting their bicycles and bulky luggage. Most of the passengers were ensconced back in their cars, ready to drive home, or to their holiday house. Bella started the walk down to the pier landing, feeling a twinge of trepidation. She had figured on finding a bus or a taxi to take her to the small cottage she had rented for the next two months, but now she doubted the wisdom of that assumption.

Walking past the waiting reception area full of family and friends, Bella felt dismay and then annoyance at feeling so pathetic about her party-of-one status. She almost walked right past the young man holding a sign saying 'SWAN' written on it with large, almost even letters, so busy was she persuading herself that her feelings of dislocation needed to wait a few more hours. Doing a double-take when she finally saw the sign, she stopped directly in front of the smiling young man holding it.

"Isabella?" he asked cheerfully.

"Yes?" she replied, curious as to who was expecting her.

"I'm Mike," said the man, taking the backpack from her and hoisting it onto his shoulder while holding out his other hand to shake hers. "Michael Newton, your neighbor. Thought you might need a hand finding the place."

"I didn't know anyone would be here for me," Bella told him as she shook his hand, overwhelmed by the feeling of amazement that someone had actually come to collect her.

"Well, my mother is your landlady and I'm your neighbor so it seemed best to welcome you properly to Orkney. You've had a long trip, no?" he asked with a smile and Bella realized that his accent was different from the ones she had heard so far. There was a cadence that was unfamiliar and unusual, but Bella liked it straightaway.

"Yes, you could say that. I've been traveling for two days," she told him as they walked away from the ferry toward the parking lot. He stopped by a small red car and began loading her bags into the trunk. After settling her into the passenger seat on the left hand side of the car, they were soon heading out of the harbor area and through the town. Bella was relieved to see that it looked not dissimilar to Port Angeles, although with slightly more of the twee touristy shops selling souvenirs to holiday makers. It wasn't long before the car was leaving the town and taking the road heading toward the northernmost part of the island. Soon they were on a single-track road barely wide enough for one vehicle. More than once they had to slow down for stray sheep meandering across the road.

Bella tried to take in her first impressions. The land was much flatter than she had expected, but it still projected the sense of wilderness and space that she had imagined. As they sped through the landscape on the small winding road, she realized there were no trees, in sharp contrast to the dense forests of Clallam County.

Mike seemed happy to chat and didn't require much of a response from Bella. He had an open face, the type of face that showed emotion easily. He looked over often as he spoke to her and Bella quickly noticed his bright blue eyes. His light brown hair was short and unstyled, and his clothes seemed practical and unfussy. Bella immediately relaxed around his down-to-earth personality and easy friendliness.

Before long, Mike was pulling off the road and started along what seemed, if at all possible, an even narrower road. The bumpy track was heading toward the coastline and Bella could make out the sea, a dazzle of sunlight hitting the water and glinting up at them. Eventually Mike pulled off to the right and Bella realized that they had arrived. She recognized the cottage from the picture on the Internet. The whitewashed walls and a roof of orange tiles were a startling contrast with the blue water and white horses of the waves of the sea in the background. It was small and friendly looking, if that was possible for a stone structure.

Mike opened the door for Bella to step in and she couldn't stop herself from raising an eyebrow that it was not locked.

"There is a key," he chuckled. "You can use it if you want. But there's not much need. Very little crime in Orkney." His tone was proud, yet matter of fact. Bella wondered if her father, who was the Chief of Police in Forks, would approve of the islanders leaving their doors unlocked.

Inside there was a living room with a sofa and some chairs. A red carpet covered the floor and some pretty curtains hung in the two windows overlooking the seaview. A large fireplace was the focal point of the room, and a basket of something dark and foreign looking was placed next to it. In the next room, there was a kitchen, clean and tidy looking but so old fashioned it looked like it had been made for a movie set in the 1950s. The bathroom was not much different, but Bella was utterly charmed by it; its lack of modernity was a plus to her, not a minus. The bedroom had painted wooden floorboards and a rug lain on top. The wrought-iron bed was almost the only furniture in the room. Bella sat on it, testing how it felt, and ran her hand over the handmade quilt that covered it. She could see the sea again through the windows, and it struck her that she was in fact surrounded by the vast ocean. For the next two months she would never be more than a few miles away from it.

Mike took her outside and showed her around the garden with a few flower beds, a clothesline and a bench for enjoying the view over the sea when the weather was fair. There was a small shed stocked with wood and peat, the dark unfamiliar stuff for burning in the fireplace. A few garden tools and some assorted abandoned items were lying like discarded detritus. Then Mike steered her to one side of the garden and pointed out some steps that would take her down to the sea.

"There's your own private path to the beach," he announced with some excitement.

"I have a private beach?" Bella was astonished.

"No, the beach is public and, to be honest, so is the path," Mike told her. "But visitors are few and far between. Plenty of beaches around here. So it is kind of your own private beach."

Bella gazed at the path which led into the thick, tough grass. As she looked closely she could see grains of sand scattered on it as if returning feet had transported sand from the beach to higher ground. The steps descended steeply and sloped away out of view. Part of her was desperate to follow the path down to the beach straightaway and explore but Mike was already turning back to the small croft. He helped her unload her luggage and found the key for her. He pointed out a folder of visitor information and useful telephone numbers.

"You'll find a few supplies in the cupboards and fridge, Bella," he said as he prepared to leave. "My mother and I figured you would be in no fit state to hike the five miles to the nearest shop."

Bella suddenly felt a lump in her throat at the kindness of strangers. "Thank you so much. You've made me feel so welcome," she choked out, hoping her sudden over-emotional state was not detectable to him.

Mike smiled an easy smile at her. "No problem. Why don't you start getting settled here? I'll pick you up tomorrow and give you a wee tour of the island. Say ten o'clock?"

"Sounds perfect. I'll look forward to it," Bella smiled gratefully at him.

As she watched Mike's red car drive back down the narrow, bumpy track Bella suddenly felt exhausted and more than a little bit alone. She made more circuits inside and outside the house before unpacking her possessions and trying her laptop connection. She had no luck and the thought of it not working filled her with dread. Bella wandered to the bedroom and, without really thinking about it, she peeled back the covers of the bed and lay down. Within ten minutes, and with the sound of the waves on the beach below in her ears, she was asleep.

When Bella woke up she could tell it was evening. The sun was still in the sky but the light was dimming. It was warm after a day of summer sunshine. Bella made herself a quick meal from the provisions that Mrs. Newton and Mike had kindly left for her and took it outside to eat. Perching the plate on her knees, she watched the sun sinking into the sea as she ate her meal. The view of the sea was transfixing, something from home, a link with her childhood days of running up and down First Beach near La Push. She was engrossed in watching the movement of the waves when her eye was caught by something unusual. For a second she thought she saw a head, a human head, in the water, staring up at her. She stared and blinked, and then it was gone.

"Must have been a seal," she said to herself and she wondered if she had enough money for a pair of binoculars in Kirkwall. She took her plate inside and tried again to find the elusive Internet connection to hook her up to the rest of the world.

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A/N

Shortbread – a biscuit made with flour, butter and sugar.

The main island is known as the Mainland, not to be confused with the Scottish mainland.

Please leave a review. Thanks!


	3. Tears Which Fell

**Thank you to my beta dellaterra for her unfailing efforts in keeping me right. Thank you to my pre-reader HoochieMomma who reads and says the nicest things.**

**SM still owns Twilight.**

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Ten o'clock was here before Bella knew it. She had slept well, despite her long daytime nap the day before, and had tried out the quaint bath with its similarly old-fashioned-looking water heater. It had made some creaking and cranking noises by way of protest but had produced an ample supply of hot water. The day was dull and overcast, much more like the typical Scottish summer weather she had been warned about. She layered up with a sweater and put a jacket over her arm, well used to the possibility of rain.

Mike pulled up right on time and jumped out the car, smiling enthusiastically at her as he opened the passenger door for her.

"Sleep well?" he enquired as she returned his smile and settled herself into the seat.

"Absolutely," she assured him. "Where are we off to?"

"Well, I thought you might like to see one of our tourist attractions," he said as he maneuvered down the track. "We have many, of course, but you'll know that. I'm sure you've been doing your research."

Bella smiled at his obvious pride in his homeland. "Yes, I have. I can't wait to see the places I've been reading about. And I would love to hear some of the traditional tales from the island too. That's part of my research while I'm here."

Mike raised an eyebrow. "Really? Well, you've come to the right place. This place is overflowing with them. You could be all summer writing them down."

"That suits me fine. The written word is second nature to me." Bella mentioned her creative writing project too and Mike looked suitably impressed. "Plus I have Orkney blood in me, from way back, on my father's side."

"Aye? You probably have relatives here. We'll track them down," gushed Mike with great enthusiasm. "Perhaps we're related!"

Bella giggled at the thought of she and Mike being distant cousins. She listened to him tell her about his family and how he had always lived on the island, apart from the four years he had spent at university. The bright lights of Aberdeen – for they were bright compared to the small town of Kirkwall and the even smaller towns dotting the Mainland – were fine for a young man experiencing a bit more of life. But the pull of the isles was strong enough to lure him back to residing there again.

Soon they were pulling into a parking lot that seemed to be in the middle of the countryside. They followed a path along a loch for a few minutes and then Bella sharply drew in her breath at the sight before her. Rising against the grey horizon were numerous large, imposing stone structures standing in a gently sweeping circle. They resembled worn rock dominoes which had been planted into the ground by giants.

"The Ring O' Brodgar," Mike announced. "It is one of the finest examples of Neolithic structures in Northern Europe. Hard to date it exactly but thought to have been here for about four thousand years. Originally there were sixty pillars but only twenty-seven remain. Still impressive though, isn't it?"

"Yes," replied Bella, intent on pulling her camera out of her bag. She wanted to capture the mood of the stones against the sky, the curve of them so unexpected and magical. The atmosphere of the place was captivating and

haunting.

"What happened to the other stones?" she asked, once she had clicked her camera a dozen or so times.

"Who knows? There are a few theories," Mike said, "Some sensible, some not so much."

"What do you mean?" Bella was intrigued to know what the not-so-sensible theories might include.

"Oh well, for example, the peedie folk took them for their underground lairs," Mike told her, with amusement in his voice. Seeing her quizzical face, he continued, "The peedie folk are the tiny fairy folk with magical powers. They know how to enchant us and have strange powers over us. They don't like to be spied on though, so if you come across any, it's best to get away unseen or they will take you underground as their prisoner." He finished with a wink.

Bella smiled at his story and yet it felt a little eerie. Of course, she didn't believe any of it but still ... It sent a shiver down her spine to think of strange creatures, ready to capture her given half the chance.

Mike walked around the site with her as she took more pictures and then suggested heading back to Kirkwall for lunch. Bella decided to ask about buying binoculars and Mike quickly offered to lend her his. Over lunch in a cheerful cafe with gingham tablecloths, he agreed with her that it was probably a seal she had seen the evening before, as there were plenty of them to watch. Whales too, if she was lucky. They spent the afternoon in the town, visiting shops and a small museum about island life before Mike drove her back to the cottage.

"Thank you so much for giving up your time to show me around," she said, as they sat in his car outside the white walls of her new home.

"It's my pleasure," he said, letting his eyes hold hers a fraction too long. Along with his characteristic smile, Bella saw something intense, something that instantly made her feel uncomfortable. Her mind squirmed under the realization that perhaps Mike was looking for more than friendship. Thanking him again, she opened the door and hurried to the front door, looking back only to give him a quick wave as he drove off.

Bella put together an evening meal but this time ate it inside. The weather was dry but still cloudy, and this added to her sudden feeling of unease. She didn't want Mike to become an issue. Bella was single, but starting a romance with an islander during a two month sojourn didn't seem like the best plan. But that wasn't the only reason. Mike just didn't do it for her.

Once she had eaten, and then failed once again to connect to the Internet, she pulled on a coat and stuffed her camera into her pocket. Closing the door she smiled at her realization that there really was no need to lock it. Bella went through the garden and started the descent on the steep path leading to the beach below. It was still perfectly light and she wanted to see the sea from the shoreline, instead of the view from the house.

The sound of the waves crashing on rocks amplified as she got nearer. As she turned a corner, she was thrilled by the sight of the water rushing in on the tide. It was a small beach, with some sand but mainly pebbles, and as she looked down she was amazed by the variety of colours to be found in them.

Bella breathed in the salt tang on the air and concentrated on the noise of the sea racing in and dashing against the shore. It was different from First Beach and yet nearly identical. She felt the same familiar emotions upon seeing the sea as she did at home. She turned her face to the sea breeze and closed her eyes. For a moment she was home again, five thousand miles away in Washington State, on the beach with her parents or her school friends or Jacob, her childhood companion. The sound, the smell, the soft light visible through her eyelids was the same.

Suddenly a startled cry rushed up from the bottom of her lungs, and Bella found that tears had appeared unbidden, taking her by surprise. The shock of it made her cry a bit more. She let the tears leak out for a minute or two, telling herself it was nothing more than jet lag, along with a touch of homesickness and bitter frustration with the lack of communication with anyone not on these northern isles. Then she blew her nose with a tissue and shook her head at this moment of silliness that would be embarrassing to admit to anyone else.

After walking for a minute or so along the beach, she turned and headed up the steep path again. At the top she turned for a last look out over the water before the daylight faded. There in the midst of the furiously cold and dark water was the head again, a seal's head, and Bella felt with utter certainty that it was looking straight at her. She watched it bob up and down and felt a calmness wash over her as she let the seal hold her gaze. Then, in the blink of an eye, it was gone.

Bella let herself into the cottage and switched on the kettle and the ancient-looking television set in the corner of the living room. The static-filled reception did not dissuade her from watching a detective show and half of a movie she vaguely remembered watching once before. As she went to bed she looked out at the moonlight dancing over the water and wondered if the seal, her seal, was out there, playing in the moonbeams. She slept soundly.

When the next day dawned, clear and fresh, Bella was surprised to find a present on the doorstep of her cottage. Lying at her front door were two fresh fish, the type usually caught far out at sea.

There was no note, no sign at all of who could have left her two sea water fish on her doorstep. Bella picked them up and took them into her kitchen. She placed them in the fridge and resolved to gut them later; Charlie's penchant for fishing meant she was well versed in handling fish.

It must have been Mike, she reasoned to herself as she got dressed and had breakfast. He was the only person she had gotten to know so far and she had no neighbours that she could see who would feel inclined to leave a gift for her. She would ask him later, she decided, and put it to the back of her mind. It was more important that she started getting some words down on paper, or rather typed into her laptop. Her novel was at a critical point and although Bella loved writing she was the type of writer to be assailed by self-doubt at the least opportune moments. Therefore she lacked a certain confidence and conviction about her morning's work as she organized a workspace for herself at the kitchen table. She reread some parts, played with the adjectives in a paragraph she was unsure about, and doodled on some notes. Then, with a promise of a coffee break in an hour, she made herself stop procrastinating and just write.

Before she knew it, the morning had passed and it was lunchtime. Sheep had appeared in one of the fields next to the small house and Bella sat outside eating a sandwich as she watched them graze and wander about. When she saw Mike's car approaching along the track to her cottage, she felt a little like a shipwrecked survivor on a desert island, seeing a sign of the outside world.

"How are you doing? Thought I would check up on you, make sure the isolation isn't getting to you yet," said Mike good-naturedly. His smile seemed to grow perceptibly wider when it became obvious that Bella was indeed glad to see him.

"Well, it's just me and the sheep today," Bella replied. "Not going mad yet, although my novel might end up taking me that way."

"Novel, huh? What's it about?" he probed. "Or is your plot top secret?"

"Yes, I wouldn't want you to steal my ideas, nor would I want to bore you to death with my tedious and tenuous plot and structure."

"Well, just make sure to send me a signed copy when it is published and you are a famous writer," he joked.

"I don't see that day coming any time soon but I'll keep your request in mind," Bella told him, sliding her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. There was a moment's quiet while they watched each other.

"Thanks for the fish. That was a nice surprise," she said to him to fill the silence.

"Pardon?" Mike's expression was a mixture of puzzlement and surprise.

"The two fish on my doorstep this morning. They were from you, weren't they?" Bella clarified, feeling the strange emotion that accompanies an unsolved mystery build in her stomach.

"Absolutely not! Firstly, I don't fish. Secondly, I think you would have heard the racket this car makes if I had made an early morning delivery." Mike's tone was light but his expression showed something more serious.

It was true, Bella realized. There was no way the early morning stillness would not have been broken by Mike driving up the narrow track to her house. And why would he have left them there and gone home, only to return a few hours later? It made no sense. There was no obvious answer now to the question of who had been responsible.

Mike changed the subject by inviting Bella on another trip to one of the island's not-to-be missed places. She readily agreed and soon they were on their way to Skara Brae. Just like the previous day, Bella loved it as soon as she saw it and climbed into the preserved stone houses, trying to imagine herself cooking, sewing, and looking after her children there. She tried to envisage life in the sea village, the animals tethered nearby, the oysters the villagers ate daily, the harmony of living as part of an orderly community. She read the visitors' information about how it had been buried by the sand for centuries, only to be uncovered after a violent storm in 1850. Now it was a snapshot of ancient life, frozen in time. She soaked up all its history and took photographs to catalogue it. She thought about how much Jacob would have loved it and how it would have captured his imagination too.

Mike took her to his mother's house for dinner. Mrs Newton was desperate to meet her new tenant and offer a bit of mothering. She bustled about and asked questions about America and how Bella was finding the Orkney way of life. Bella could only answer politely that she liked Orkney very much. This was true, but after only two days she didn't feel very qualified to give a more detailed answer. Mrs Newton didn't notice though and was happy to hear that Bella was managing fine and liked her accommodation well enough.

"Have you tried the peat fire yet, Bella?" Mrs Newton asked her, cutting into a fruitcake. "Just the thing to keep you warm on a cool evening."

"Umm, no. I'm not really sure how I would go about making a fire," Bella admitted.

"I'll show you. It's not difficult. You don't have to rub sticks together or anything," Mike offered and Bella nodded at him, trying not to worry about them spending too much time together. She wasn't sure how to handle an awkward conversation about why she didn't want more than friendship.

It was as they climbed into the car after being well fed by Mike's mother that he suddenly announced he was taking her to the pub at Finstown. Alarm bells started to ring in the back of Bella's mind and she was wondering how to dissuade him from this idea when she realized from his incessant chatter that he was due to meet a group of his friends and wanted to introduce her to them. Relieved by the thought of being part of a group, Bella agreed and let Mike drive her to the traditional-looking pub. It was an old stone building with low ceilings and no hint of the clean, fluid lines and stylish decor she was used to from bars she had visited in Seattle. Nevertheless, it was welcoming and charming.

Mike's friends were equally welcoming. Alice and Jessica were locals who had obviously grown up with Mike and shared the same love for their island. The third member of the group was an incomer, an English man called James, working here on a tourism development project. They wanted to know all about Bella's reasons for coming to Orkney and how she was finding it so far. Bella got the feeling that her impressions and thoughts of the island mattered a great deal to those who lived there.

The part they enthused most about was the story of the disappearance of Charles Macleod and his two companions. The tragic tale of lost love and how Isobel mourned him silently until she discarded her wedding dress and tried to close the door on her heartache was enough to have the two girls looking sorrowful.

"I work in the library, Bella," Jessica told her. "You should come down and see the records from that time. There will be newspaper reports and death certificates and so on. There might even be photographs."

The thought of seeing the story brought to life for her in black and white in the public records of Kirkwall Library brought Bella's imagination to full throttle. She thanked Jessica and promised to come as soon as possible.

The company was easy and Bella suddenly realized how much she had missed the chatter and teasing that only occurs among friends. The drinks were flowing too and it was with sudden alarm that Bella realized she was in danger of becoming drunk. As they said their good-byes, Mike took her arm and steered her to the car, as she let a small hiccup escape.

"Enjoying yourself, Bella?" he enquired, taking it upon himself to casually sling his arm around his shoulder. He was perfectly sober while Bella was displaying distinct signs of being tipsy.

"Yes, thanks," replied Bella, trying to will herself back to sobriety. Mike set off on the journey to Bella's house while she tried to calculate whether he would be a gentleman or seize this chance to become more familiar with her. She needn't have worried though. Once he pulled up outside the door, she jumped out of the car, and he made no attempt to follow her into the house. He waited until she had opened the door and waved to him before driving off again, the car headlights flashing in the twilight as he steered along the rugged track.

Bella found her way to the couch and sat down, feeling grateful for the peaceful dimness in the room. She let her eyes close and tried to concentrate on getting the room to stop spinning. She could have been there ten minutes or an hour but eventually she opened her eyes again and thought about fetching some water from the kitchen. As she stood up, her eyes were level with the window, and she caught sight of the sea sparkling in the moonlight beyond the garden.

Then she froze. Standing in the garden was a man, staring back at her. Her head still spinning, Bella frantically tried to remember if she had locked the front door as she had stumbled through it.

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Reviews are very lovely. Just saying.


	4. The Stranger

Thank you, as ever, to the very talented Dellaterra for her beta work and to my pre-reader Hoochiemomma. Remaining mistakes are mine.

SM still owns.

* * *

Bella blinked, unsure if she was imagining the man standing in the garden staring back at her. He was unmoving, statue like. He was not threatening looking, but it was impossible to tell what his intentions were. There was no large machete raised over his head in a battle stance or some other clear signal he was about to do her some harm.

Suddenly, in a blind panic she forced herself to move to the door and threw all of her weight against it, feeling for the key in the lock at the same time. It was locked and she breathed a sigh of relief, despite the painfully hard hammering in her chest. Leaving the door she crept back to the living room and tried to spy out the window without alerting the stranger to her presence. Her eyes could not find him at first, and Bella found this thought even more alarming. Was he at the front door at this very moment, trying to gain entry? Her fumbling mind wondered if she should be reaching for the cottage telephone and phoning the emergency number for the police. _What was the emergency number for the police in Britain? _But even if she managed to summon them, they might be reluctant to arrive just to tell someone to move themselves a few metres back onto a public path. No, she would just have to sit tight and wait for a sign he had gone.

It was only as she inched closer to the window and moved the curtain aside with her finger that she saw him again. Almost jumping with fright, she saw him standing in the garden but now facing away from the house and toward the sea. He was motionless, as frozen as a statue. As Bella's eyes adjusted, she noticed that his hair was dripping wet; in fact, his whole body was wet, as if he had just walked out the shower. And Bella had another jolt as she noticed something else. He was completely naked.

His body was lean and muscular. Every part of him seemed finely sculpted. The moonlight bathed him in an eerie glow, and his skin could have been any colour in the half darkness. Bella felt her fear dissipate as she watched him. There seemed to be no danger radiating from him, but rather peacefulness and contemplation. What could this man, naked in her garden, want?

He turned his head to the left, revealing a beautiful profile. Bella gasped, either from the movement or from her appreciation of his features, she did not know. As if he heard her, he turned around until he was again staring at her. She should have moved away from the window, as he could clearly see her, but something told her not to. Told her, or rather, did not allow her to.

Transfixed, she stayed exactly where she was, meeting his stare with hers.

Time passed, but Bella could not say exactly how long it was. The strange man continued to look at her, as if he were reading her face for a clue about something. She did the same and felt herself lost, trapped with him in an endless gaze. The man was the first to break the spell between them. He turned his head to the sea for a few seconds, as if listening to some message from it, and then turned back to her. It was like a silent goodbye. Then he turned and walked gracefully towards the path to the beach. Once he was gone, Bella found herself staring at the empty space he had occupied and wondering if she had dreamed the whole episode, so bizarre it seemed.

When she was satisfied that he was indeed gone and was not returning, Bella fell in bed with heavy limbs and a head that was beginning to feel fuzzy from the alcohol dehydrating her brain. Dreamless sleep came quickly.

The next day arrived with weak sunlight streaming through her windows. After groggily fixing herself a cup of strong coffee, she stood and stared at the spot where the strange man had been standing a few hours before. Had she imagined it? Had there been some weird hallucinogen in the drinks at the pub? Scolding herself for being so silly, she drank her coffee and wondered if she should mention the whole strange affair to Mike. She had no plans to see him today. He was at work, and anyway she had assured him she could find her own way about and fend for herself. After last night, however, perhaps she shouldn't be so sure about isolating herself.

Bella took a short while to get ready and then grabbed an empty backpack. She was running low on supplies and had decided to walk down the track to the main road and catch a bus to the nearest store. She hesitated to use the word supermarket as she wasn't sure how big the shop would be.

It wasn't until she opened her front door that she saw two shells lying on her doorstep. Looking rather like large clam shells, their smooth iridescent surface on one side was in sharp contrast to the dull gray striations on the other. They were lying there waiting for her. She turned them over and over in her hands, as if she were looking for a message in them. She knew they could only have come from one person: the stranger in her garden, the naked man who had spent so long staring at her. He must have put them there while she was dozing on the sofa. Had he been waiting for her to come home? And the fish, she realized, must have come from him too. That was the only explanation that made sense in this bizarre situation.

She took them inside and placed them on her bedroom window sill, feeling vaguely reassured. Someone who was leaving her presents couldn't be a dangerous threat to her safety, could he? And it wasn't as if he had a knife or a gun concealed about his person, Bella smiled to herself.

The hike to the main road did not take long, but waiting for a bus took considerably longer. After the third vehicle pulled over to offer her a lift, Bella decided it was silly not to accept. Maybe she would just forget to mention to Charlie that she was accepting rides from strangers.

The nearest shop was larger than Bella expected and she spent nearly an hour perusing the aisles and examining the different packages and boxes. When Bella was loading up her backpack with her shopping, the shopkeeper kindly offered to deliver it later, on her way home. At first Bella wasn't sure that the lady realized that this would mean a detour down a rough track to reach the cottage, but she was assured that this posed no problem.

"My lassie is away on a trip of her own. Makes me feel better that I can help a young girl visiting here," smiled the woman and Bella smiled back weakly, suddenly consumed with guilt. She still had not managed to contact her parents to let them know she was okay.

The small town had a scattering of shops as well as a post office. There Bella purchased a phone card and then went looking for a hotel where she could use a telephone. She found a modest-looking inn, perhaps a house of some importance at one time, but now capitalising on the tourist trade. As Bella approached the reception desk, she realised that the girl behind the counter was Alice, one of Mike's friends. Alice's face lit up when she saw Bella standing there, and Bella recognized immediately that Alice was bored and frustrated with the slow trickle of tourists coming through the hotel doors. Chattering excitedly, Alice showed her to the phone and talked her through using her phone card. As she was about to leave her in peace, Alice touched her on the arm.

"Are you hungry, Bella? If you can wait twenty minutes, I am due my lunch break. Please don't make me spend it with the bad-tempered chef."

"Sure, I can do lunch," replied Bella, warming to Alice's friendly smile.

Renee picked up on the third ring and was ecstatic to hear from her daughter. Bella apologised profusely and explained that the Internet connection she had been promised was eluding her so far. Renee was just glad to hear that Bella and her possessions had made it there and people were being friendly.

"Any nice young men, Bella?" her mom teased gently.

Mike's face crossed her mind briefly and she quickly dismissed it. It was the face of the statue-like man from the moonlit garden that had been dominating her thoughts all day and suddenly she felt jumpy and unsettled. Bella quickly changed the subject and, after sending her love to Charlie she ended the call, promising to ring again soon.

Alice didn't hesitate before linking arms with Bella and steering her down the street. She talked nineteen to the dozen, which normally would have annoyed Bella, but on Alice it seemed to fit. There was energy rolling off her and a vibrancy that suited her small graceful frame. She had glossy black hair, which hung in a perfect bob to her chin, and make-up applied so expertly to her delicate features that Bella could only marvel at it.

After they had ordered, Alice wanted to know everything about Bella and what her plans were for the next two months. It wasn't long before she brought up the subject of Mike with a sing-song tone that Bella understood to mean just one thing.

"No, there is nothing going on between Mike and me. We're just friends," Bella clarified. "Nothing more," she stressed as Alice arched an eyebrow at her.

"Poor Mike. He's such a nice guy. Sometimes the nice guys never get the girls, do they?" mused Alice as she stirred her coffee.

Now it was Bella's turn to raise an eyebrow, for she sensed there was a story behind Alice's statement.

"He has been on his own for a while now. Ever since..." Alice stopped stirring and laid the spoon on the saucer. She seemed to be having an internal debate with herself.

"What? Ever since what?" Bella asked, her interest piqued, despite her dislike for gossip and salacious details.

"Well, his girlfriend died. She went missing, and everyone presumed that she drowned."

Bella gasped and felt her eyes widen.

Alice continued, "Technically, she was his ex-girlfriend. Mike and Rose had been together on and off for a few years and they were in an off period. She came home from university in Aberdeen on a study week. She was down at the beach, not far from here, and they think she went swimming. They never found her body."

Alice's animated face had become grave and solemn. "They couldn't tell if it was suicide. There was no note or anything. But Rose was a bit volatile and she had been going through a rough time. So no one knows, really."

"Poor Mike," Bella whispered.

"Oh yes, he took it very badly. Blamed himself, no matter how many times we all told him it wasn't his fault. He struggled on to finish his course and then moved back here. No one knew if that was a good thing or a bad thing for him, but it seems to have helped him come to terms with it."

The two of them sat in contemplative silence until their food arrived. Alice made an effort to change the subject, and they chatted about the places that Bella must visit and some upcoming events on the island that Alice suddenly decided Bella absolutely must attend.

It was not until Bella was seated on the bus and travelling back to her house that she reflected on the story that Alice had told her about Rose's disappearance. It was hard to reconcile Mike's cheerful, relaxed demeanour with the sense of loss and grief that he must have struggled with since such a life-changing event. She wondered if she would see it in his eyes now that she knew about it.

She managed the walk back to the house briskly, but by the time she had reached the front door, she felt a little fatigued. Her unexpected drinking and late night was definitely catching up with her, she concluded, as she sat at her laptop and made changes to her writing that she suspected she would disregard by tomorrow. She had barely managed a page or two when her shopping was delivered. After thanking the shopkeeper profusely, she spent a happy hour or so arranging things in her cupboards and figuring out the controls on the washing machine. It looked like sunshine for the rest of the day, and Bella looked forward to pegging out her washing on the line in the garden. As she stared into the garden, her mind swung back to the previous night. The memory of the beautiful stranger standing out there, looking at her, was so vivid and unnerving that Bella again felt that unsettling emotion creep over her. Who was he? What did he want? And was he coming back?

The remainder of the day was spent with Bella halfheartedly attempting to write and failing most of the time. She made herself a dinner from the fish in the fridge and ate it outside, watching the sea breeze and evening sunshine dry her washing. She found a documentary and a sitcom to watch on TV before taking herself to bed with a book. There was a sense of anticipation running through her as the sunlight changed to moonlight, and all her senses felt wide awake and alive at the thought of the man returning.

Bella stared at the ceiling in the darkness and willed herself just to stay in her bed. Was there any point in endlessly jumping up and down to spy into the garden? She smirked at herself for what could only be some sort of insanity that had overcome her. The last time she had felt like this was when she found herself seeking out Tyler Crowley's tall, athletic frame on campus back at the university. And that had been a ridiculously futile waste of time. Bella's shyness and Tyler's brash confidence were never going to be a good match.

The hours ticked by. Eventually Bella fell into a light fitful sleep, her mind was on edge and full of questions. It was around two in the morning when Bella suddenly awoke to the sound of something calling to her, yet there was nothing to hear. Cautiously, and with her heart hammering in her chest, she swung her legs out of the bed and tiptoed to the window. Looking out, fear and excitement coursed through her in equal measure.

He was there.

Standing in the exact spot as before, and turned toward her window as if he was expecting her, his posture had that same elegant stillness she remembered. His body was covered in the same sheen of water, but this time he wore the tight fitting long johns of a wetsuit, the type a diver might wear. His chest was bare though, and showed a smooth plane of muscle and sinew. Bella drew in a ragged breath and stood motionless.

The man made no move to approach. How long would they stand and gaze at each other? If this were a game of chess, one of them needed to make a move. As if he read her mind, he walked toward her, never lifting his eyes from her. The thrill Bella felt was charged with an element she couldn't quite name. She knew she should recognize it, yet it felt brand new.

He walked until he was a step away from her window. Then he smiled at her, and Bella felt her world slide on its axis. The effect of this stranger's crooked smile was magical. That was the only way to describe it. Bella knew with unexpected certainty that there was no reason to fear him. She loosened the catch on the window frame and it swung open, removing the barrier between them.

There was a moment's silence as they observed each other.

Then Bella could bear it no longer and blurted out, "Who are you? What do you want?"

The man smiled and gently tilted his head to one side. "Do ye no ken, lass?" he said in a soft lilting voice that calmed Bella and soothed her.

"What do you mean? Should I know you?" she asked, her voice less frantic now.

"Are ye a stranger here?" he asked with a patient tone to his question.

"Yes, I've just arrived," she told him.

"Aye, that explains a lot," he stated. "Where do ye hail from, lass?"

"The States," she answered, wondering why he spoke in this curious way.

"The Americas? You hae travelled a guid long way," he said.

They observed each other intently for a while longer.

"Where are you from?" she probed.

He turned his head to the dark rolling sea and swept out his arm as if to indicate the whole ocean.

"The sea?" Bella intoned incredulously.

"No, lass, I bide on one of the small islands," he told her smiling. "I just come to the mainland to visit."

"Visit me? You left me the fish and the shells, didn't you?"

"Aye, I did. Did ye like them?" he asked.

"Yes, I did. I liked them very much. Thank you," Bella said. "I'm just not sure why you are bringing me gifts."

"We like to be hospitable, ye ken," the man answered. "It's always been the way with our people."

"I'm not sure I understand," said Bella.

"No, I suppose not. But I mean ye no harm, lass," the man told her.

Bella knew it was true. There was nothing radiating from this man that spoke of danger or told her to keep away. She continued staring into his eyes, although the dim light prevented her from seeing what colour they were.

"I'll go now," he said. "Perhaps I'll visit ye again."

"Tomorrow?" blurted Bella, without realising what she was going to say until it was out there, hanging in the air between them. "I'm Bella, by the way." She extended her hand through the window and held it there for him to shake.

He took her hand into his and shook it gravely, as if it were a serious matter. His skin was warm and soft, and felt like velvet.

"Edward," he said softly. As they dropped hands he stepped backward from her and moved as if to turn to the beach path.

"Where are you going? Have you got a boat?" Bella needed to know.

"I swim," he said simply.

"Swim? How can you swim in that freezing water?" Bella said with astonishment.

"I'm an extreme swimmer," he said with laughter in his voice. "Ye can google it." He had reached the path. "Tomorrow!" he called to her as he disappeared from view.

She stared after him for a few moments and then shut the window and latched it. She climbed into bed and re-examined the whole strange encounter in her head. It made sense, and yet it didn't. It was the strangest conversation she had ever had with anyone. But as Bella felt herself pulled into a sound sleep she realised it was also the happiest she had felt in a long time.

* * *

A/N

ye ken = you know

guid = good

hae = have

Dial 999 for the police in the UK btw.

Please review and leave me a comment!


	5. Answers and More Questions

My beta, **Dellaterra**, and my pre-reader, **HoochieMomma, **are the best. Ever. Remaining mistakes are mine.

SM still owns.

Thanks to all who are reading, reviewing, favouriting and alerting!

* * *

In the morning, Bella had a bath, ate breakfast, and tidied up the cottage before she finally allowed herself to swing open the front door to see if there was a gift on her doorstep. When she did, there was nothing to be seen, and Bella felt deflated by a twinge of disappointment. However, she took solace from the fact that he had returned and now she knew his name: Edward, Edward, Edward. She had already spent a while that morning turning it over and over in her mind, in the fashion of taking a precious coin or an unusual pebble out of your pocket to re-examine it. She knew vaguely where he lived. And what he did. Another reason to curse her lack of online connection. She really needed to google extreme swimming.

Bella stepped out into the garden and gazed out over the sea. In the early morning sunshine, she could see other smaller islands scattered among the sparkling waves. How far they were from where she stood, she couldn't tell. She couldn't begin to guess the temperature of the water, but cold enough to freeze your limbs and numb your senses seemed like a good estimate. How could he possibly swim out to one of those islands? It just seemed beyond the realm of possibility to her.

The morning passed quickly enough, and Bella rewarded herself for a decent amount of words committed to her laptop with a decision to go to the public library in Kirkwall. As she hiked down the track to the main road, she wondered how much a bike would cost. But it wasn't long before she was on her way to the hustle and bustle that constituted the main town.

The library was not in an old building but rather a modern, purpose-built one, constructed after the community had outgrown the original Kirkwall Library, which had been funded by Andrew Carnegie in 1909. As she read this on the plaque outside the library door, Bella was pleasantly surprised to discover yet another link to her home in Washington, where the library in Port Angeles has also been funded and built by Carnegie.

Jessica was delighted to see her and quickly showed her where the records and archives were kept. Some of the birth, death and marriage certificates were on microfiche, and Bella sat in front of the machine, nudging and twirling the small dial that controlled it until she found the birth certificates for Isobel Mary Towers in 1872 and Charles William Macleod in 1871. There was no marriage certificate of course, but rather one for Isobel and a Peter Murdo McNab in 1893. Bella found birth records for three children and later a death certificate for Isobel, dated 1937. Once she thought she had covered all the family tree, she pulled out huge ledgers filled with newspaper articles. There were not many for 1890, and it took only a short time and careful handling of the delicate newsprint before she found the article she was looking for. The disappearance of three men in unexplained and mysterious circumstances was a big story on the island, and the first article described the initial stages of the story as it had developed. Bella read on, engrossed by the account of an incident that had occurred more than a century ago. It wasn't long before she turned to the next article, which went on to include photographs. Her eyes greedily searched out Charles Macleod, who up until that point was only a name in her imagination. But now she could see him in a small head shot showing a young man, younger that she was now. Bella felt tiny stabs of sorrow for the loss of this man who should have come home and wed his blushing bride. Her eyes drifted down the article and she realised that the next photos were of Charles' two companions, the ones with whom he had gone missing.

Bella gasped and felt all the oxygen leave her lungs. Her senses shut down and only a dull thrumming noise was left.

One of the men was Edward.

Except it couldn't be; Bella knew that. This picture had been printed in a newspaper over a hundred years ago. There wasn't any possible way it could be him, thought Bella, as she lifted the paper up higher into the light. The resemblance was uncanny. This man must be Edward's ancestor, the beautiful features passed down in the genes. Bella tore her eyes away from the photograph to scan the names in the articles. Frantically she scanned and skimmed until her eyes hit it, until her eyes found the name she was searching for.

Edward. Edward Masen.

She didn't know whether to do a fist pump or crumple in a confused heap on the floor.

The library rules didn't allow her to make photocopies of the archived newspapers, so she had to make do with taking copious notes. Jessica came to check on her and momentarily Bella swithered over whether to confide in her about the strange developments that seemed out of her control but something told her not to. She had an inkling how idiotic the whole story might sound to someone who barely knew her.

Jessica suggested following Isobel and Peter's family tree, and seemed sure that Bella would find distant relatives still living on the island. Although Charlie's great-grandfather had left the island in search of a new life in the Americas, as Edward had put it to her, others must have stayed behind. Bella claimed that she was anxious about getting back and suggested to Jessica that she would start that search another day. In reality, she needed time alone to think about things. She needed to sit in that garden and stare at the sea until some answers came. She needed to see Edward and ask him to help her solve this puzzle.

It was as she was leaving that she spotted a bank of computers and suddenly called out to Jessica, "Can I get on the net here?"

"Yes, of course! I'll need to register you first, and then you can log on with a visitor's password."

Bella was almost twitching with anticipation as she watched Jessica fill in some paperwork and write a password on a small card for her. By the time she was seated in front of the monitor, her mind was racing, thoughts rapidly spilling over one another. As she watched it go through its laborious log-in procedure, she felt like a runner in a hundred-metre race waiting for the starting gun.

At last the search engine box appeared on the screen. Bella typed in "extreme swimming" and waited for what might appear. Options of pages arrived and she clicked on the first one.

"_Conditioning and training the body to swim in extremely low temperatures is possible but not a sport many chose to follow. The ability to push through the pain barrier and block out the debilitating effects of exposing your body to freezing temperatures demands total control and commitment. Plus there are considerable dangers attached to swimming in such a risky environment."_

So it was possible. Perhaps he was telling the truth, Bella concluded, as she sifted through more pages of information. There were examples of people swimming in seas and lakes, all of them either remote, freezing, shark or jellyfish infested. A few names kept popping up, obviously the most prolific in the field. On a whim, Bella typed "Edward extreme swimmer" into the search engine, but it brought up no results.

She logged onto her e-mails and found a list of messages from friends wondering how her trip was going. Bella typed a generic one to a bunch of people and then took some time to type a slightly longer one to her parents, to reassure them that she was settling in fine. Despite her anxiety over having no Internet connection since she had arrived, after she had completed these tasks, she found she had no need to use it for anything else. She logged off and said good bye to Jessica.

Before too long, Bella was back at the small sea cottage. Everything was unchanged, and yet she felt something was different, something intangible. Bella just wasn't sure what it was. Try as she might, she was unable to settle to anything. No book or television program held her interest. She picked at the meal she had made. She paced the garden and contemplated going down to the beach but resisted. She wondered if she should go to bed and sleep, but it was only just getting dim, and she was too much of a night owl to do that.

At ten o'clock, she slipped inside the quiet house in the hopes of finding something that would occupy her mind. As she moved into the living room in order to slump on the couch, she found herself glancing out the window, her eyes hoping to see Edward appear. Her body was already moving downwards towards the seat of the sofa when she had to do a double take. There was he was, standing in the spot he seemed to favour so much. She leapt up and moved to the window. He seemed to be waiting for her and raised his hand in greeting. Bella's mouth dropped open and she gasped. Seeing him there, beautiful and commanding in his poise, waiting for her, made her head spin and her heart lurch.

Bella walked backward until her legs bumped into the coffee table. Then she spun on her heels and raced outside. He was there, wearing the same wetsuit long johns as before and dripping wet with salt water.

"Can I get you a towel?" Bella asked him, instantly annoyed at herself for this opening question, when she had so many more urgent ones she needed to ask.

Edward smiled and shook his head, "Nae, I'm fine just as I am, thank ye."

Bella started chewing her lip with nerves.

"Sit down wi' me?" He motioned to the garden bench and moved toward it. Bella followed and let him take one end of the seat while she took the other. The moonlight was stronger now and bathed him in a luminescent glow.

Bella was tongue tied about where to begin and so said nothing. He watched her for a minute and then started with, "Have ye had a busy day?"

Bella almost snorted at the ordinariness of his question in what was certainly not an ordinary situation. She decided to cut straight to the chase.

"I went to Kirkwall Public Library and did some research," she told him, watching his face for every subtle change.

"Aye, a guid place to start," he agreed. His voice was deep and lilting and sounded almost melodic to Bella.

"Firstly, extreme swimming. I did google it," she announced, and waited for his reaction. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"It does exist," she continued, and he burst out laughing. She felt herself go red and was glad of the darkness to hide it.

"But why? That's what I don't understand," she stated.

"Why? Why do the birds fly and the bees gather pollen? Why does man climb mountains and throw himself out of airplanes? Because we can. Because it is possible."

"But why are you doing it here?"

"Conditions here are perfect. And I used to live here. It's nice to come back for a while. I'm in training. There are not too many distractions on a remote island."

"Oh," was all Bella could utter. Her mind flitted back to the summer she and Jake had spent cliff diving and how stupid and inconceivable it would seem to someone who had never seen a perfect dive off the cliffs near La Push. She decided to move on to the next topic.

"I found the newspaper articles relating to the disappearance of my great-great-great-grandmother's fiancé in 1890. His name was Charles Macleod," she said boldly.

Edward's face froze for the tiniest fraction of a second, and Bella knew for sure that she would have missed it unless she had been on her guard to look out for it. Then the moment was gone, and he was once more sitting relaxed beside her on the bench. As if to prove a point about how at ease he was, he leaned back and stretched one arm over the length of the bench, as if he were reclining in the warmth of a summer's day. Bella drew in a deep breath and carried on.

"He was with two friends that day. One of them was called Edward Masen."

Edward turned his head away to gaze over the sea with an inscrutable expression on his face.

"Aye?" he said softly.

"What's your name Edward? Your surname?"

He turned his face back towards her with agonising slowness. "Cullen," he said simply.

Edward Cullen. Not Edward Masen. This was all foolishness on her part.

"Was he a relation of yours? I saw a picture of him, and you're his double," she said, waiting for another reaction, however minuscule.

"Well, perhaps. I don't rightly ken," he said, keeping his voice even. "My parents have passed away, and I never took an interest in my family tree while they were alive."

"I'm sorry about your parents," Bella told him, and she was.

"Di'na fret. It was a long time ago," he told her gently.

They stared out at the ocean in a companionable silence. Bella was remonstrating with herself for her stupid notions and for putting him in the situation of bringing up the subject of his parents. But Edward seemed calm and peaceful. It was only when Bella started to shiver with the night air that Edward spoke again.

"I'll away, lass. Get inside and stay warm," he urged her and stood. He held out his arm and offered it to her. She took it and marvelled at the softness of his skin. He pulled her up and she found herself standing only inches away from him. Their new proximity was not lost on him either, and he held her gaze as he stroked her arm in a movement that seemed powerfully intimate to her. Bella felt an arc of excitement travel through her, jolting and unsteadying her. She shivered again, this time not from the cold.

He broke their contact and started the walk to the beach path. Bella stood and stared at him, fighting down the impulse to call back to him to stay. She didn't understand this influence he seemed to hold over her or where this forceful desire to be near him had come from. She only knew that, as she watched him retreat into the darkness, her only comfort was that he seemed to feel it too. Bella went to bed, feeling in her heart that Edward was going to visit her the next night, and the one after that.

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ken = know

guid = good

One of my stories, '**Who Dares, Wins**' was reviewed on two blogs last week. Firstly The Lemon Report on pervpackssmutshack dot com on Tuesday 15 March and then Twimuses dot com on Thursday 17 March. Definitely exciting enough to make up for the mushroom ravioli (IKR? the irony of it) that made me ill on Friday.

Please leave a review. I try to reply to them all!


	6. Rest from the Sorrow

**My beta is Dellaterra and my pre-reader is HoochieMomma. They are both awesome and I'm so grateful to them for their time and their wise words. Any mistakes that remain are mine.**

**SM still owns.  
**

**This is a short chapter but I am going to try really hard to post the next one very soon.**

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As the sun rose the next day, Bella found herself waking and full of surprising energy. She opened up her laptop and felt none of the hesitation and doubt that often encroached on her as she made herself write. The words took on a life of their own, simply pouring onto the page without prompting and prodding from her reluctant mind. Bella wrote all day, stopping only to feed herself and watch the ocean waves. She wondered if Edward was out there, ploughing through the freezing water, and if he was thinking of her.

It was nearly evening by the time Bella heard a car approaching. Seeing Mike's car trundling toward her house, she switched off the laptop and went to stand on the doorstep to greet him. She found she was pleased to see him and his affable smile.

"Hey, Bella," he called to her as he jumped from the car, reaching over to grab something from the passenger seat. "I promised you these. They're a bit dusty, not been used in a while."

He passed over a smart black case with a shoulder strap. Opening it, Bella discovered a set of binoculars. Mike showed her how to adjust the focus and Bella raised them to her eyes, attempting to scan the horizon for anything of note. After a moment of uncertainty, she decided not to mention to Mike that the mystery of the friendly seal had been solved.

Over a cup of tea Mike asked her how she had been getting on and how she had been spending her time. She told him about lunch with Alice and visiting Jessica in the library. She also explained what a great day of writing she'd had, and he looked suitably impressed with her endeavours. His relaxed grin suddenly made Bella act on impulse.

"Mike, have you heard of extreme swimming?" she inquired.

Mike's blue eyes blinked, seemingly confused. "Not really," he replied. "Sounds like it's a sport for crazy people who are fond of hypothermia."

"Yeah, I thought so too," Bella told him. "But I met this guy, and he said that he was living on one of the remote islands and training for this endurance swimming."

"What guy?" Mike's body language told her that he was instantly on edge.

"Just a guy I met on the beach." Bella wasn't going to reveal the true nature of Edward's encounters with her.

"I think he was pulling your leg, Bella," Mike said in a stiff voice. "Firstly, the sea water is fantastically cold. Secondly, very few of the remote islands are inhabited."

"But the Orkneys are made up of seventy islands," argued Bella. "Lots of them could have people living on them."

Mike shrugged and looked like he wanted to change the subject. Bella asked him about how his work with the council's housing department was going, and he was glad of the new topic of conversation. He also brightened considerably when he told her of a céilidh that she should come to on Saturday night. Apparently Alice had stipulated that Mike must make sure that Bella was coming, and Bella got the impression that he had been told not to take no for an answer.

"Of course I'll come," she reassured him. "It sounds like a wonderful way to see a bit of island culture."

"You'd better have your dancing shoes on because you won't get a minute to yourself," Mike warned her good-naturedly, bolstered by her assurance that she was going to attend.

Bella saw him to the door and arranged a time for him to come and pick her up on Saturday. As he was stepping over the doorstep he suddenly paused.

"Perhaps you should use that key and lock the door when you are here alone," Mike said seriously. "I don't like the sound of some weirdo prowling about outside your house."

_If only you knew the half of it_, thought Bella.

"I will, if it makes you feel better," she said. "But I don't think he's a weirdo. And he's local. He said he was from here."

"What's his name?" Mike demanded, a frown darkening his face.

Bella immediately regretted letting this information slip. At the same time, she wanted to know if the name meant anything to him.

"Edward Cullen," she answered.

Mike's face remained clouded, but there was no outward sign of recognition.

"Never heard of him," he stated flatly.

Bella breathed out a sigh of relief as Mike started his car, turned it round and drove off.

As she washed the dishes, she contemplated the Mike Problem, as she called it in her head. Undoubtedly, he had been kind and thoughtful, and so far he had not made her feel uncomfortable. And then there was the awful business of Rose going missing. Bella couldn't help but feel admiration for what Mike had been through and how he had managed to hold things together. But something told her that this balance of friendship and companionship was not going to last much longer. She knew from the way he watched her and held her gaze longer than he needed to that he was going to tip the delicately balanced scales in a different direction. She would need to be careful on Saturday, she decided. It would be best to be on her guard for Mike trying to get closer than even fast and furious Scottish reels would merit.

An hour later Bella wandered into the garden, hoping to spot Edward coming up toward her on the path from the beach. But there was no sign of him, although it was the same time of evening that he had appeared yesterday, and she had hoped he would make a habit of visiting her before two in the morning. She was about to give up and go inside when she became aware of a sudden movement. Lifting her head up, she saw Edward walking toward her and her breath caught in her throat. She could feel tension and excitement churn through her, mixed together in equal measure.

"Good evening," he said, running his hand through his dripping wet hair. "How are ye today, Bella?"

Bella didn't think she had heard him say her name before, and the sound of it in his lilting accent sent a small thrill through her.

"I'm very good, Edward," she told him. She described her day of writing and how it was like a burst of energy spilling out of her and onto the page.

He smiled and took her hand. Gentle fingers stroked it, leading her to the garden bench. They sat down, closer than the day before, their knees nearly touching. Edward continued to hold her hand and smile at her. Bella thought she might faint from the lack of oxygen reaching her brain.

"Do ye mind me holding your hand, Bella?" he said so quietly it was nearly a whisper.

Bella struggled to formulate a sentence. _Why am I acting like a teenager? _she chided herself.

"No," she struggled to get out. Her voice sounded high pitched. She swallowed.

"Ye're awfully quiet," he murmured, with the hint of a grin on his lips. Bella suspected that he knew the effect he was having on her. His bare chest was only a hand's breadth away from her and she was trying to restrain herself from reaching out and smoothing her fingers over it.

"Tell me about yer life in America," he prompted her, and she was glad of the distraction. She told him about growing up in Forks with Charlie and Renee. Forks was small, but Bella didn't believe that was a bad thing. Most of the towns in Orkney were even smaller, so she saw no reason to feel scorn for her hometown. Her college days in Seattle had allowed her to experience the faster pace of life and hub of activity which is always present in a city full of people.

"A bit different from here, then, Bella?" Edward joked softly as they gazed at the sky, reds and pinks bleeding into the darkness, as the sun sank toward the horizon. "Is Forks near the sea?"

"Oh yes, it's very near. Our closest beach is on the Indian reservation at La Push. We used to go there all the time." Bella stopped herself and cleared her throat.

"What is it? Ye can tell me," Edward said, then waited patiently. Bella wrestled in her head with the next sentence. She wanted to tell him, but saying it aloud was painful.

"I had a friend there, in La Push. We spent lots of time together. His name was Jacob. He died." Ignoring the lump in her throat, she stared at the sea and waited for the usual worthless platitudes from Edward. But they didn't come.

When he didn't speak but just continued holding her hand, she turned to look at him. He was watching her in a peaceful way. She saw no hint of pity or discomfort, which was what she was used to whenever she tried to explain her loss to anyone.

"We used to go cliff diving into the sea near La Push. One day he jumped and didn't come up. They think a large wave pulled him under, and he couldn't fight his way to the surface. I wasn't there that day. Maybe if I had been, things would be different." Bella knew that she was indulging herself in wishful thinking as she so often had since that day, but it was hard not to.

"Perhaps, but I doubt it," Edward told her. "It was his time."

"His time? He was only seventeen! He hadn't had a chance to live yet!" Bella was stunned at the nonchalance Edward was showing about the loss of a young life.

"Bella, all over the world, people die unfair deaths before they have had a chance to live. He lived his life and had his death; there is a natural order in that. And people remember him. That is all we can ask for."

His words were a shock and a salve at the same time. Edward's acceptance of Jake's death was startling, yet his words opened a window in her confused mind. _Life is short for so many people. And he was loved and continues to be loved by those who missed him..._ Suddenly Bella found she was crying, silent tears at first and then huge wracking sobs that welled up from the bottom of her lungs. In response, Edward drew her close and pulled her to his chest. His arms encircled her and he soothed her by rubbing circles on her back. Bella cried it out, letting her head rest on Edward's smooth chest. There was a sense of relief in releasing her emotions and in the way Edward had handled it. She felt entirely safe, and cared for. Bella couldn't remember anyone else making her feel this accepted. She relaxed and let herself be taken care of.

When she woke in the morning, she was on her bed, a blanket pulled over her, and Edward was gone.

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A/N A céilidh is a social gathering with folk music and dancing. Ye can google it, as Edward would say. _He he he._

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	7. The Chapel that Grew from Concrete

**Thanks and squeezes to my beta Dellaterra and my pre-reader HoochieMomma. **

**This story now has a beautiful banner, made by the very talented Becksishere. There is a link on my profile so please go look!**

**I am sorry this is late. I was on a short break with my kids last week and they didn't see the need to delay our holiday for a day because Mum had something important to do on the Internet. (By the way, I was on the Scottish coast, but no naked Edwards appeared, which was a shame.)**

**SM still owns.**

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Bella sat up, confused and startled about how she had come to be lying on her bed when the last thing she remembered was sitting outside with Edward. There was no sign of him. She was fully dressed, with her shoes neatly paired up on the floor beside the small chest of drawers. The house was empty, with the front door locked and the key posted back through the letter box.

It was another riddle she couldn't explain. Her quest to visit Orkney had started with one unexplained mystery and now they seemed to be flying at her from all directions. The disappearance of Charles, and then Rose. The strange appearance of Edward and his uncanny similarity to a person in a photograph over a hundred years old. And now his apparent ability to hypnotise her and carry her inside without her realising.

Once Bella had shaken off her surprise about the way her evening had ended, she found that she was eager to start writing again. As her laptop hummed into life, she wondered if this had anything to do with the time she was spending with Edward. What was this power he seemed to have over her? Another mystery to ponder.

After hours of writing, Bella was glad to hear a car approaching her house. But upon opening the front door, she was surprised to find not Mike's red car, but a silver one instead. When it stopped, Bella was pleased to see Alice emerge from it.

"How goes it, hermit writer-girl?" Alice asked her playfully.

Bella giggled. "Just great, thanks. I've been writing all morning, like a good girl. What are you doing here?"

"I have a day off. I've come to whisk you away to the bright lights of... Um, well, where would you like to go? Shopping?" There was a note of hopefulness in Alice's voice at the end.

"No, no shopping required. How about some place unusual, somewhere I've not been to yet."

"Yes, that I can do," Alice agreed. "Get your stuff and hop in."

They drove south for an hour, until they approached a narrow strip connecting the Mainland to the next island, Lamb Holm. The seawater lapped at the concrete foundations scattered like giant building blocks across Holm Sound. Bella strained her head to see them as they crossed the causeway to _terra firma_.

"This is the first of Churchill's Barriers," said Alice. "There are four altogether, built by prisoners during the Second World War. They act as causeways between the southern islands. Of course, they also helped protect Scapa Flow from attack from German U-boats."

"And this," announced Alice as she swung the car around into a parking area, "is the Italian chapel. It was built by some of the prisoners while they were staying here. They had plenty of concrete to play with, you see."

The front of the chapel was a beautiful white and red Italianate facade, but as Bella looked closely, she realised it was an elaborate reworking of two Nissen huts that had been joined together. The corrugated steel huts had benefited from the plentiful supply of concrete and had been transformed into a charming chapel for the prisoners.

Entering the chapel, Bella was astonished by the artistry that was evident and the pride the prisoners had taken in their craftsmanship. The interior was carefully and skilfully painted with patterns and illustrations, the colours fresh and vivid. There was barely any furniture, as the painted ceiling and walls were enough to captivate the eye. One end was known as the Sanctuary, with a concrete altar and beautiful wrought-iron rood screen with so much detail and symmetry that Bella was left speechless.

Bella stood by the concrete font, made by the man who led the project, Domenico Chiocchetti, and gaped a little. She stared at the intricate candle holder made from a metal food tin, hanging from the ceiling, until Alice wandered over to join her.

"I don't understand," she said. "How did POWs end up on Orkney?"

"They were taken prisoner in North Africa in 1942 and brought to Orkney to help with the labour shortage. After the sinking of HMS Royal Oak at the start of the war, they needed to block access to Scapa Flow. Hence the Churchill Barriers," explained Alice, who then led her around to a display board with details of the prisoners who had spent their time and some of their own money to build, paint and decorate the chapel. Bella's imagination was captured by the thought of these young men, so far from home, who volunteered to spend their time painting a cold, draughty hut on a tiny island while they waited for the war to end, their passage home and normal life to resume.

Alice continued by telling Bella that Chiocchetti had opted to stay on the island even once he was a free man so he could work on finishing the chapel. He returned home, leaving it in the hands of the islanders who promised they would look after it. Many of the prisoners had returned for a fiftieth anniversary commemoration in 1992. Now it was one of Orkney's most popular tourist attractions and a lasting monument to postwar reconciliation.

As Bella's eyes roamed the display board, her eye was caught by one photograph that seemed larger than the others. It showed a dark-haired young man with a definite twinkle in his eye, identified as "Emilio Maccarti." There was a small paragraph under this name.

_All the prisoners of war held on the Orkney Isles reported that they were well treated by the islanders and made welcome during their stay. The only casualty was Emilio Maccarti, aged 23 years, who vanished in 1944 on the north-east coastline of the Mainland. Although Emilio seemed to have adjusted well to life as a prisoner of war, he disappeared on 24 June 1944, and was presumed drowned. His body was never recovered. A memorial was erected for him outside this chapel by his fellow POWs, with additional contributions from numerous islanders._

Bella read this paragraph twice and then tugged Alice over by the elbow.

"Look," she said, pointing. "Just like Rose."

Alice stared and then read. She turned to Bella.

"Yes, I suppose. What's your point?" she asked, failing to fully see Bella's comparison of the two.

"Well, a lot of people on Orkney seem to go missing, don't they?" Bella stressed the word 'missing' as if that might give Alice a vital clue as to what she was driving at.

"Bella, we live by the sea. The sea claims a lot of lives and gives no mercy. We islanders know that. We grow up knowing that. It is part of our understanding of the world around us," Alice explained.

Bella thought of Jake, growing up by the sea and still succumbing to its cold, cold clutches. And thinking of Jake made her think of Edward and his words last night, oddly detached and yet enough to resonate with her need to understand why Jake was not here, not living his life.

"But perhaps Emilio Maccarti didn't know that. Maybe he lived in landlocked Italy. Your explanation doesn't work there."

Alice began to look slightly exasperated. "If he was not used to the ways of the sea, then even more reason to suppose he foolishly decided to go swimming and was swept away. And that water is cold enough to freeze anyone to the bone."

Those words made Bella think of Edward again.

"Have you heard of extreme swimming, Alice?" she asked on the spur of the moment.

"Extreme swimming? Is that along the same lines as extreme ironing or extreme juggling?" snorted Alice.

Bella laughed and turned back to the display board. But she really just wanted to stare some more at the photograph of Emilio and his dark hair and twinkling eyes. As they drove away, she reflected on how he had never returned home to his family. She thought about how every time his family recalled his disappearance, they would have remembered this minuscule point on the tip of Scotland and the fiercely cruel sea that had claimed him.

As they headed back to the Mainland, Alice checked with Bella to confirm that she was coming to the céilidh on Saturday night and that she would be up for dancing with as many men as possible. Bella turned the tables a little and asked Alice if she had a man on the scene. Suddenly Alice began to look uncharacteristically downbeat.

"There's a man, a lovely man," Alice's voice adopted a distinctly dreamy tone. "He came last summer to work in the school in Westray on an exchange programme. All the way from Texas."

"Mmm, a cowboy," drawled Bella, showing her own certain appreciation for southern gentlemen. "So, you're an item?"

"Yes... And no." Alice looked conflicted, as if she was thinking about something painful. "Jasper is wonderful. He's the man of my dreams. I just don't know if we have a future together. His exchange comes to an end soon."

"And then what?"

"We haven't discussed it," Alice sighed. "He has not said anything about staying on. I don't want to pressure him and spoil the time we've got left."

"You don't have to stay here. You could go to America," suggested Bella.

"Oh yes, I know that, but it's a big step," Alice replied. "My family is here. If I went, there's a chance I wouldn't come back. I'm not sure I could do that to my parents."

Bella dwelt on this as they drove across the island, stopping at some viewpoints where Bella captured the landscape with her camera, and visiting a tearoom for coffee and fruit scones. The world was small enough to travel around, but Alice was right. She could journey across the Atlantic to see how things went for a year or so, but she ran the risk of never returning. Visiting a handful of times, perhaps, but in essence, deserting her island. Bella thought about how Charlie and Renee would react if she told them she wasn't coming back, if she told them she was making her home in the Orkneys. They would smile and support her and tell her she was free to make her own choices. But behind the smiles, she would know she had broken their hearts. Alice's dilemma was painfully clear.

That night as she sat in the garden waiting for Edward to arrive - for she had a curious certainty that he would - she thought about what the future held for her relationship with him. Yet she felt a little silly calling it a relationship, considering the few times she had met him and the limited amount she knew about him. Even so, she knew that she had never felt so drawn to a stranger before. He seemed to exude a powerful force over her, like the moon over tides. Like a magnet and steel. She would wait all night if she thought he would come to her, if he would spend ten minutes sitting beside her, talking to her. Bella shivered in spite of being perfectly warm. It was her mind feeling this new pressure of being inexplicitly bound to him in some way.

And then he appeared. As before, his sleek, wet body was dripping with sea water, and his hair was lying flat on his head. He walked up to her, as lithe as a panther, so quiet and confident, and lifted her hand to kiss it. Then, not letting go, he sat beside her, never lifting his gaze from her.

"How are ye this evening, Bella?" he asked, and she felt herself slip into that territory of dreamlike pleasure at the sound of his velvety voice, with his breath close enough for her to feel. The touch of his hand was starting a slow grinding sensation in some deep part of her.

"I'm well, thank you," she managed to breathe out, and he laughed a little.

"Why so quiet? Are ye tired?" Edward asked her.

"No, I slept very soundly. Perhaps you can tell me how I ended up on my bed? Did you put me there?" Her casual tone belied her interest in how exactly she came to fall asleep in his arms and not wake up until the next morning.

"Ye exhausted yerself with crying. When ye were asleep I carried ye inside. I was a gentleman, Bella, I hope ye know," he told her, with a look that told her he was gently mocking her if she had thought otherwise.

"Yes, I do believe you were. That's not really the problem," she said. "I'm not in the habit of falling asleep like that. People don't usually go from sitting up talking to falling into a coma-like sleep, do they?"

"Mmm, I've seen a few people do just that in my time, although alcohol was usually involved, I'll grant ye that."

"But I was perfectly sober!"

"Aye, I'll grant that ye were," chuckled Edward. "It's the sea air then. It tires newcomers out."

Bella was not convinced, but realised she was not going to get any further pursuing this line of conversation, so she began to tell him about her visit to the painted chapel. She told him about how unexpected it was and how she admired the painstaking work of the prisoners of war who had taken it upon themselves to create something beautiful in the midst of their incarceration. She found herself recounting the disappearance of Emilio Maccarti. Edward listened calmly, stroking her hand as an assurance that he was still listening. She compared Maccarti's disappearance to that of Charles Macleod, and still he said nothing. There was perhaps a slight pause in the caress of his fingers against hers, but nothing that told her anything. The light was fading and she could no longer see the emotions in his eyes.

"And there was the disappearance of Rose. That was only a few years ago. Rose... Oh, I didn't ask Alice her surname."

"Hale," came his voice softly, almost absent-mindedly.

"What? Did you know her?" Bella pounced on this new revelation as if it would tell her something that would make all the pieces of the puzzle slot together.

"No, no. I just heard the news. The loss of a bonny young lassie made the news for a long time up here."

"Yes, I can imagine," said Bella quietly. There was something not quite right in what he was saying, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was.

They sat silently for a while, watching the sunset. Then Bella asked him about his day and how his training was going. He answered happily and talked to her until he noticed she was shivering slightly.

"Time for me to leave," he announced, standing, but never breaking their contact, so she rose too.

"Bella, ye didna mind me coming to visit ye?" he asked. As he spoke he wrapped one arm around her waist, and brought their intertwined hands up to hold between them. Bella was sure he would feel the rapid thumping of her heart through the walls of her chest.

"No, I don't mind at all," she whispered, and her body was screaming for him to kiss her. She felt dizzy in anticipation.

Edward leaned in and kissed her chastely on the cheek. He drew back, seeming to dwell on some internal thoughts he was having. Then he walked away, retreating into the darkness until Bella was alone again. Alone and with few answers, but still feeling the precious sensation of Edward's kiss and his hard body pressed against hers.

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**Thanks to Kat for talking about this over at khatla dot livejournal dot com / 8841**

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	8. Tales of Bewitchment

**Thank you to my beta Dellaterra and my pre-reader HoochieMomma who make this so much better. All remaining mistakes are mine.**

**SM still owns.**

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The next day dawned rainy and cloudy. The sea seemed to roll angrily, but Bella's mood was undaunted. With the new energy she felt towards her writing, she set up her station at the table and started. Again, the words just seemed to come to her, free and unbidden, appearing on the screen before her with joyous ease.

After a few hours, she allowed herself to stop and have a break. As she ate her lunch, she noticed the rain had stopped. The clouds looked unlikely to shift, but pulling on a coat, she headed out to the main road and caught the bus to Kirkwall. She wanted to visit the small folk museum again. After seeing more of the island first hand, some of the museum's displays and information might help her to make more connections in her understanding of the island's ways.

Sure enough, she came across information on the chapel and the team of prisoners. There was the face of Emilio again, smiling and looking carefree despite his captivity and isolation from his family and country. But there was nothing new to glean from the printed information and nothing jumped out at her to diminish her puzzlement over the disappearing islanders. In fact, she began to dismiss the idea that anything connected them, apart from the sea, as purely the result of her overactive imagination. She found herself in the small museum gift shop and, not needing any pencils printed with the museum's logo or a ridiculous toy haggis, she drifted automatically to the bookshelf. A few expensive-looking books of photographed landscapes caught her eye, but it was when she spotted several volumes of folklore that her interest was piqued. Picking one up she was immediately gripped by the description of the peedie folk and was reminded of her first full day on the island, when Mike warned her to stay away from away from them, lest she be held underground by their magical powers. Smiling to herself at the notion of a strapping young man like Mike being dragged into to a secret lair by the wee folk, she took the book to the counter and purchased it.

Settling herself in the nearest tearoom, she opened the book and flipped through the pages. She read of the fiddler who went missing for twenty-five years after being invited into the underground home of the peedie folk, re-emerging after what he thought was only the passing of a few hours. She read about mysterious islands which appeared and disappeared on the sea's whim. She read about the battle between two clans that resulted in the dead being turned to stone, only to come to life again at night and do battle, until there was no-one left, and only stone soldiers remained to fight each other in the darkness. But a great deal of the stories concerned a name she had never encountered, and it was something that seized her attention from the moment her brain started to digest the information in front of her.

Selkies. She ran the name over her tongue, whispering it aloud under her breath. The selkies were seals in the sea but transformed into humans on land. They could shed their skins and live as a human for a year and a day. Humans sometimes stole their seal skins and hid them to prevent them from leaving. The selkie women could bear children with their human husbands and would stay until they recovered their skins and slipped back into the sea. The selkie men were handsome and charming, bewitching the women they met on land.

Bella read this sentence over and over again as she tried to talk herself out of the peculiar notion that had popped into her head. Edward seemed to come from the sea. He was extremely handsome and very charming; certainly, he held some powerful hold over her. Had she been bewitched by him? Bella shook her head and laughed at herself. Selkies were made-up mythical creatures, she told herself as she headed home, greedily reading the stories of the selkies' ways. There was a story of a fisherman who lost his daughter, and never found an answer to her disappearance until twenty years later when he came across her living on an island with her selkie husband and their beautiful children. Bella was torn between the power of the stories and the cold, hard science of the matter. _Selkies do not exist, _she repeated to herself as she trudged along the winding track to the house.

The cottage felt damp and cold inside after the dreich, rainy day, as the bus driver had called the weather, in conversation with her. Bella was sitting by the hearth and wondering how to build herself a peat fire when the noise of a car alerted her to a visitor. Mike had finished work for the day and wanted to check if she was managing alright.

"You are just in time to prevent me from making a mess attempting to light this fire," she told him, waving her arm at the fireplace.

"No problem. Glad to be of service," he grinned at her, winking. She smiled back, her heart sinking a little.

He expertly laid the heavy, rich brown peat in the grate and built the fire. Using a match, he had it lit in no time, and heat began to radiate from it. The glow from the flames was comforting against the gloom of the clouded evening.

"You could light a fire in the bedroom too, if you wanted," Mike told her, and Bella blushed a tiny bit at the thought of Mike imagining her in bed, the fire crackling and filling the room with an orange glow.

Mike was anxious to learn if she was still coming to the céilidh the following day, and she assured him she was. He talked animatedly about who would be there, the band of fiddlers who would be playing and how she would see plenty of kilts.

"And you know what they say about a true Scotsman?" Mike said in a teasing voice.

Bella looked blankly at him. "What?"

Now it was Mike's turn to blush a bit. "Well, traditionally, a true Scotsman doesn't wear anything under his kilt."

"Oh," was all Bella could mutter in reply. She could not bring herself to react to Mike's revelation but rather forced her face to remain impassive, as if he had just reminded her to buy milk the next time she was out.

"It will be fun, Bella. You'll have a great time," said Mike, heading for the door. As he drove off, Bella wondered what kind of great time Mike was thinking of. She couldn't help but wonder if he would make his intentions clear, so to speak, tomorrow night. He was probably planning to make sure she was relaxed and enjoying herself, plenty of dances together and close contact. She made a mental note to send out no encouraging signals and to dance with a variety of people so he would not dominate her evening. Perhaps then he would get the message, through these subtle hints, that she was not interested.

After eating dinner and watching half of a BBC drama that failed to hold her attention, she pulled on an extra sweater and a coat to sit outside. Edward had never been inside her house and had never asked to come in. It seemed to suit this mysterious relationship they had developed that they only met in the dark gloaming of the evening with the roar and crash of the sea as the backdrop to their encounters.

Sure enough, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Edward arrived, dripping wet and graceful in his lithe movements toward to her.

He greeted her in the way she had become accustomed to, kissing her hand in a quaintly old-fashioned manner, almost bowing as he took his seat on the bench next to her.

"Good evening, Bella," he started. "Have ye been waiting for me?"

"Yes of course," she answered with a tinge of mock indignancy. "I do believe you were expecting me too."

"Aye, it is true," he agreed. "And tis a blessing to see ye here waiting for me, that it is."

Bella was startled by his choice of words. She could not imagine any of the frat boys back home at the University of Washington telling her it was a blessing to see her. She could not help but smile to herself.

"What have ye done today?" he asked her.

Now was her chance to ask him about the selkies and their attraction to land dwellers. Now was the time to ask about his true affinity with the sea and the real nature of his ability to survive in the freezing North Sea.

But such an interrogation seemed to be a big step to take, as well as an utterly ridiculous notion to pursue. To speak this out loud would lay herself open to gentle mockery at best and scornful derision at worst. So she started off on a more neutral subject.

"I was reading some of the folk tales of the island," she ventured. "For instance, the peedie folk and their strange powers."

Edward nodded. "Aye, the peedie folk and their tricks and curses on the islanders. They're meddlesome blighters, that's for sure."

"What?" Bella's tone was disbelieving. She had not expected Edward to answer as if he took her seriously. "What do you mean?"

"Here is a story for ye, Bella," he said, drawing an arm around her shoulders and letting his hand rest on her arm, where he drew small circles with his fingertips.

"Once there was a hard working farmer who grew sick. He lay in bed for weeks and let his wife do everything. No doctor could find anything wrong with him, but still his malaise lingered. Eventually his wife grew so desperate and anxious that they were going to be thrown off their smallholding and starve that she travelled to see a young man well known for curing such ailments. This man was a layabout, but a grand fiddler. The wife pleaded with the man to cure her husband and he agreed to help her. He told her to go home and her husband would be well. The woman was furious at the man's assertion for he had not agreed to visit nor prescribed a tonic. But upon her return, there was her husband, ploughing the land, fit as you like."

Edward paused, and Bella stared at him.

"The peedie folk had put a curse on him, ye see, when he had accidentally disturbed their houses while he tilled the soil on a corner of his field. The layabout was a favourite of the peedie folk on account of his skills with the fiddle, and they were prone to granting his requests. They love music, ye see."

Bella remained silent. It was an intriguing story. But it was just a story. Wasn't it?

"You are speaking about them as if they are real," Bella started to protest. "The peedie folk are just a tale. They are just made-up figments of the imagination, a longstanding myth, part of the traditional tales of the island."

Even in the descending darkness, she could see Edward's face breaking into an amused smile.

"Ye can believe that if ye want, Bella, but I think ye are being a wee bit shortsighted."

"Pardon me?" Bella choked out.

"Well, do ye really believe there is no magic in this world? Only human beings, nothing else?" Edward's voice was hypnotic as usual. She tried not to concentrate on the tones and cadence of his voice, but rather on the bizarre theory he was proposing. "This is a muckle galaxy," he continued. "We can't presume we are the only sentient life force."

"Mmm, perhaps." Bella knew what she should ask next. Part of her was afraid and part of her was glad to put the question out there in front of them. "What about the selkies? Are they real too?"

Edward's fingers stopped their delicate dance on her arm for a brief second and then they continued.

"The selkies? Aye, the selkies are real enough, Bella." There was a warning tone in his voice. Bella was sure of it.

She felt a scratching sensation in her throat, her heart beating quicker, a surge of adrenalin pulsing through every vein of her body. Perhaps this was Edward's idea of a joke. While Bella couldn't bring herself to believe that he was taking this seriously, she found an overwhelming need for him to continue. And was there any harm in letting him have his fun?

"Tell me about them," she urged.

"Selkies can live in the sea and on the land. On the land they take their human form, shedding their seal skin. They can bide a while on the land, but sure enough they will hanker after the sea, and sicken for it if they cannot return."

"Because their skins have been stolen and hidden?" Bella asked, remembering what she had learned from her book.

"That's right. It has been known for their human lovers to steal their skins to keep them here, to raise a family with them. But it is in a selkie's nature to be in the sea, so the separation can drive them mad or bring on a strange sickness."

"But what brings them to the land if they love the sea that much?"

"Well, sometimes they are looking for a mate. Often a woman waiting for her fisherman husband to return is glad to find a selkie. And sometimes they are summoned."

"Summoned? What do you mean?"

There was a long pause. "It is said that crying seven tears into the sea will bring a selkie to you," Edward stated eventually.

The seconds ticked by while Bella tried to take in the information Edward had just conveyed to her in such a serious tone. He continued to stroke his fingertips against her arm with the lightest of pressure.

"Edward," she started, not sure where this conversation would take them, "have you ever seen a selkie?"

"Mmm," Edward hummed as if he were thinking about how to answer this question. "It is possible. I see seals often in the sea. And I have seen many a man walking about on Orkney. Who is to say that one of them is not a selkie? Every culture has their shapeshifters, no?"

Bella sighed a little at the roundabout way in which Edward had chosen to answer her question. There seemed little doubt now that she was going to have to ask him straight out.

She pulled herself up a bit in her seat and turned to face him. "Edward...," she began.

But Edward interrupted her and began to recite a verse,

"For I am a man upon the land;

but I am a selkie in the sea,

and when I am far frae ev'ry strand,

my home is in Sule Skerry."

"Sule Skerry? Where's that?" asked Bella, distracted from asking her impossible question.

"An island west of here. It is a boat trip away. Perhaps one day you'll go there," Edward said as he rose from the bench, pulling her up gently so she was facing him in his arms. "I must leave ye now, Bella. Good night." And he leaned in to kiss her, lingering longer this time, as if he were drinking in the scent of her and the softness of the skin on her cheek.

"Good night," she managed to utter, feeling weak from the contact with him.

He stepped away and walked backward, as if he did not want to lose sight of her. He had reached the edge of the lawn before Bella called out to him.

"Edward, I forgot to tell you. I won't be here tomorrow," she explained. "I'm going to a céilidh."

He walked back toward her quickly. "A céilidh? The music will attract the peedie folk, to be sure. Best take care, Bella, for they may want to steal ye awa'."

"That's very funny," Bella admonished him. "I'll do my best to stay out of trouble."

"Aye, and watch the young men too. They may be trouble," Edward said in an altogether darker, more serious tone.

"I have some nice friends. I'll be in no trouble," Bella said, deciding it was best not to mention Mike's overly friendly manner.

"Enjoy then," Edward called out, retreating again into the darkness. "I'll come to visit ye in two days."

Bella could not help but feel a deep pang of disappointment and annoyance that her evening out meant she would not see Edward for forty-eight hours. Turning to go inside, back to the orange glow of the peat fire, she wondered where Edward's strange bewitchment was leading her.

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A/N

muckle = large

dreich = gloomy, dull

The verse Edward quotes is not mine, but from a traditional Orkney folksong called 'The Great Silkie of Sule Skerry'.

I have a short outtake available which gives a little insight into Edward's thoughts as he leaves Bella. But you have to review to get it. Yeah, you can call it bribery if you like, lol. Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	9. The Céilidh

**Thank you to my beta Dellaterra and my pre-reader HoochieMomma. If you like history in your fic you should be reading 'Wanderer: The Garrett Chronicles' by Dellaterra and 'Falling Empire of a Heart' by HoochieMomma. Both are amazing.**

**Thanks to all my reviewers last week! Please PM me if the outtake didn't reach you.**

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Bella pulled on the only dress she had brought with her, dried her hair carefully and applied a thin layer of make-up. She had no idea how dressed up everyone else would be, but she didn't want to embarrass herself by turning up to the céilidh in jeans and scruffy shoes. She was sure to embarrass herself with her dancing so she figured she may as well look nice while she turned in the wrong direction and trod on her partner's toes.

Mike arrived right on time and whistled a low wolf-whistle when he saw Bella approach the car. In spite of her concerns about his expectations, she couldn't help smiling at his obvious approval. Swinging her legs into the car and clicking the seatbelt in place, she deliberately avoided looking him straight in the eyes, wary of what she might see there. But he drove off quickly and was soon chattering about various people she would meet and the dances she would have a chance to participate in.

"I'm not a great dancer, and I don't know any Scottish dances," she protested lamely. Her experience with dancing amounted to some awkward shuffling with Jacob at her high school prom, and some alcohol-fuelled swaying in various nightclubs in Seattle during her student days. Nothing in that prepared her for tackling The Gay Gordons or a boisterous turn at Strip the Willow.

"Don't worry, I'll look after you. I'll keep you right," Mike said in a protective voice, and Bella mentally grimaced at what she suspected Mike's ideas on looking after her might entail.

When they arrived at the modern community hall in Finstown, people were already entering the building and the sounds of fiddles and accordions were emanating from inside. Mike swung the car into a parking space and, much to Bella's chagrin, insisted on helping her out of the car in an overdramatic display of chivalry. Then he proprietorially laid his hand on her back to guide her into the hall.

"Bella! You're here! Fantastic!" enthused Alice, her face lighting up with excitement at Bella's arrival. She patted the seat next to hers and Bella quickly sat down, glad to escape from Mike's touch. Jessica was there too, and she was equally happy to see Bella again.

"Got your dancing shoes on, Bella?" she enquired. Bella began to feel increasingly nervous about the amount of complicated dancing she was clearly expected to do. Perhaps laughing at the clueless tourist taking part in a traditional pastime was common entertainment in Orkney.

The girls chatted while the band warmed up. As Alice and Jessica exchanged gossip, Bella cast her eye around the room and spotted Mike and James at the bar. James raised his arm in a friendly gesture, and she mirrored his movement, glad to have another male in their group. While she was sitting there, she suddenly wondered why she had not asked Edward to join them this evening. Surely no-one would have minded another participant. But even as she thought this, she could see two huge problems with this theory. Firstly, she could imagine that Mike would have objected strenuously to another man stomping around on his territory. Secondly, try as she might, there was no way she could see Edward fitting in with this evening of ordinary community joviality. She tried to imagine his tall, graceful frame leaning in the doorway; his perfect, symmetrical features on his beautiful face; his intense gaze taking in the room; his long legs tapping to the beat of the tune. But she just couldn't. In her mind, it was as if she could not separate him from the sea. Wherever he was, the sea was present too. The two were intertwined, linked in some elemental way she didn't quite understand. And besides, he was usually half naked, which may have caused quite a stir in the community hall of Finstown.

"Good evening, Bella. Nice to see you again," James leaned in to kiss her on the cheek as he interrupted her faraway thoughts about the Edward enigma. He smiled at her in a relaxed way, which made her grateful for his laid-back manner. Mike, on the other hand, began to fuss about and look agitated that James had settled himself next to Bella. But in the next instant, the musicians ceased with their tuning up and announced the first dance of the evening.

The dance floor was nearly full when Mike asked Bella if she would do him the honour, and so as not to be rude or churlish, she accepted and allowed him to take her cool hand in his slightly sweaty one and lead her over to an empty spot. Bella struggled with the unusual way she had to hold her arms; both were crooked up in the air, one near her ear and one stretched out for her partner to hold. But once everyone got going, she realised the dance was quite simple and a lot of fun. It was energetic too, and Bella felt out of breath by the time she took her seat again.

"How was your first Gay Gordons?" giggled Alice, who had graciously paid compliments to Bella as she waited for her heartbeat to return to normal.

"Very fast and furious," answered Bella, watching the couples on the dance floor move with ease during the next dance.

"You did very well, and you have my full sympathies on being the novice here," added James. "At least they don't call you a ferrylouper."

"What does that mean?" asked Bella, puzzled.

"An incomer. And they like to call me Sassenach too, which I think is worse," he sniffed, as if his pride was wounded.

Bella's face clearly showed her lack of comprehension.

"An Englishman abroad in Scotland. Not very complimentary really," whispered Jessica theatrically. "But we'll change your name to Jamie and make a Scotsman of you yet," she announced to him.

They all laughed. All except Mike, who watched the scene with a growing look of unease. Although he asked her to dance again, Bella requested that she sit for a while. Unfortunately this gave James ample opportunity to talk nonsense to Bella. When Mike saw how she laughed and nodded at him in all the right places, a scowl wrinkled his forehead.

Bella soon danced again with Mike though. Then she danced with James, and then with another islander who knew the group and came to ask Bella to spin with him on The Military Two Step. And so the evening progressed, with all the girls dancing in turns with various young men in the hall.

Around half past ten, a break was announced and there was a sudden burst of activity near the kitchen. Stovies and oatcakes were being served, and Mike volunteered to fetch some for Bella as well as himself. She protested that she didn't really know what she was agreeing to.

"Ah, stovies, the drinker's friend. Puts a lining in your stomach, that's for sure," assured James.

"In that case, shouldn't you have had them before you came out?" quipped Alice.

"Actually, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not drinking," said James. True enough, since finishing his first drink from the bar, he had not been drinking alcohol.

"I still don't know what stovies are," Bella told them.

Perhaps the dancing had given her an appetite, for when the plate of mashed potatoes, onions and beef arrived, Bella was surprised to discover how tasty it was. However, soon their plates were empty, the music started up again, and Bella found herself back on the dance floor being twirled and spun. Dances such as Strip the Willow involved four couples in a formation, and at times, Bella truly didn't know which way to turn next. Strong arms grabbed her and birled her so fast that the lights in the ceiling blurred into one, and she feared her shoes might fly off. The pace was frenetic and relentless, but Bella couldn't remember when she had last had so much fun.

As she wobbled to her seat, the room still spinning, an arm caught her and guided her outside to the fresh evening air. It was Mike, looking nervous and a little uptight. A few people were milling about, and he positioned the two of them in a quiet spot against a wall. He cleared his throat while Bella waited for what she surely knew was coming. Although her head was still spinning from the whirlwind of dancing, she told herself to focus through the haze of wine she had drunk and hear him out.

He started by asking her how she was enjoying herself; that part was easy enough to answer positively to. Then he seemed to take a deep breath before launching into a speech about how much he had enjoyed showing her around the island and having her here tonight as his guest. She fought down the urge to argue that she thought they were there as a group.

"You know Bella, I think very highly of you. You are amazing. I mean, travelling all the way here on your own? That takes guts," he said, caught up in his own whirlwind of words and emotions.

_Any second now,_ she thought to herself.

"I just want you to know that I like you. Really like you. I was wondering if there is a chance we could be more than friends. I know you might feel a bit apprehensive about having a relationship with someone here, knowing you are going back..."

He talked some more, avoiding her eyes while he got it all off his chest. As he prattled on, she thought, _yes, a relationship with someone here would be a bad idea. _

But she didn't have those feelings when she thought of Edward. Those feelings were completely missing. It was as if there was a clear dividing line, with Edward and her on one side, and everyone else on another. She couldn't even think about home while Edward was in her thoughts. It was like looking through a foggy glass when she thought about her life before meeting Edward, and now everything was crystal clear. But why? And what did this mean for her future? As she watched Mike's mouth move but heard none of the rambling words that came out of it, she decided the person she really needed to talk to was Edward. And this time she was going to demand answers, no matter how ridiculous she sounded.

Suddenly Bella realised that Mike had stopped talking and was looking at her with a sense of anticipation. He was expecting some sort of answer and she hadn't even paid attention to the question.

Bella squirmed under the pressure and then steeled herself to get it over with.

"I'm sorry Mike. I think you're great. But we should just be friends." Her childhood habit of chewing her bottom lip when she was nervous suddenly re-emerged from the depths of her consciousness.

Mike's mouth slackened in disappointment. He let his head hang a little and then let out a tiny snort. "Can I just ask you one thing, Bella? Is there someone else? Someone else you like?"

Without thinking Bella opened her mouth and answered simply, "Yes."

There was a moment when neither of them moved. Bella watched his face, aghast at her admission. Her breath felt as if it were caught in her chest.

Mike snapped his mouth shut in irritation, turned on his heel and stalked off. Bella wondered if perhaps she should go after him, offer him some words to soften the blow. But in all honesty, she couldn't make herself. She didn't want to put herself in that mangle of emotions and hurt pride and bad feelings. Feelings of affection could quickly turn in on themselves and result in ugly, brooding sentiments against the person who had (once) been the object of the beholder's admiration. As she watched Mike storm angrily back into the hall, she thought it best to leave him alone for a while.

But now she was the one who was alone, left outside by herself after his hasty departure. She dragged her toes in the gravel and wondered if she should just face up to the situation and go inside to rejoin the table. But Mike was no doubt already there, hinting at her rejection of him.

Bella sighed and wished she was home, sitting in her garden, waiting for Edward to appear from the sea. She gazed along the road leading into the town and wondered if she should start walking or try to find a taxi. Her reverie about what to do next was suddenly interrupted.

"Hey, Bella, too hot in the kitchen?" said a teasing voice. It was James, suddenly beside her, smiling.

"What? I'm not sure..." Bella mumbled.

"Mike? Couldn't stand the heat and had to get out of the kitchen?" he said, trying to clarify his joke.

Bella tried to rearrange her face in a neutral mask. "Mike? What did he say?"

James let out a small chuckle. "He didn't need to say anything. It was written all over his face. And now he is at the bar, drowning his sorrows."

"Oh shit," whispered Bella. The use of the word 'drowned' made Bella wince inside. It made her think of Rose, Mike's girlfriend, lost to the waves and the depths of the ocean. "Shit, shit, shit."

"Don't worry about it. You can't force something that isn't there. When Mike wakes up tomorrow, hangover pounding on his skull like a battering ram, even he will concede to that much."

Bella smiled wanly at him, to show him she appreciated his efforts to make her feel better.

"How about I take you home? Looks like Mike won't be driving anywhere tonight," James suggested.

Bella hesitated and then agreed. She was suddenly desperate to be home, to hear the crashing waves on the beach below. James left her for a minute to collect their things, then reappeared and led her to his car. Once they were driving away from the town and towards her small stone croft, she let out a sigh of annoyance at the way things had turned out.

"Come on, Bella. It can't have been that bad," James said to her sympathetically.

"Mmm, well, I could have handled it better. I tried to let him down gently but managed to blow it at the last second, when he asked me if there was someone else. Why did I speak without thinking?" Bella whined to herself more than to anyone else.

"Oh dear," James said in mock sympathy. "Way to go, Bella! Never mind. It's probably nicer to be passed over in favour of someone else than no-one at all," he grinned as they waited in a passing place for another car to drive past them. "Someone here, or at home?"

"Here," Bella answered absent-mindedly.

Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up in front of Bella's home. James turned off the engine and turned to face Bella.

"Thanks for driving me home, James," Bella told him. "You were a lifesaver."

"No problem, Bella," James said, and then he fell silent. He seemed to be waiting for something. Bella wondered if she should invite him in. Perhaps it would be the polite thing to do, but she really just wanted to be on her own. Alone seemed less complicated than letting other people down and trampling on their feelings.

James broke the silence for her. "All that cola I've been drinking is bursting my bladder. Would you mind if I came in and used your bathroom?"

There was only one polite way to answer that, so Bella fished the key out of her bag and opened the door. She pointed to the bathroom and James went in and closed the door. Bella opted to put the kettle on while she waited for him to reappear. She gazed over the dark sea through the living room window as she listened to it boil. She wondered if Edward was out there, powering through the waves in the freezing water, or if he was on land, dry and warm in a house.

When hands wrapped themselves around her waist and she felt someone breathing onto the side of her cheek, she felt herself freeze with the horror that comes with being unexpectedly touched and the contact from a body that is foreign and unwelcome.

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**A/N**

**birl = spin**

**Stovies are made from potatoes, onions and beef – traditionally the leftovers from the Sunday roast.**

**By way of compensation for the cliffhanger I am offering a teaser from the next chapter but you have to hit that review button. Thank you!**


	10. The Night of the Hunter

**Thank you to my beta dellaterra for painstakingly working on this with me. Thank you to my pre-reader HoochieMomma for her words of encouragement. Remaining mistakes are mine. **

**SM owns the original stuff.  
**

**I am sorry this is late. This was not the easiest chapter to post. Please read the warning. **

**Warning: This chapter deals with an attempted sexual assault. Please be cautious if this is a sensitive subject for you.**

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When hands wrapped themselves around her waist and she felt someone breathing onto the side of her cheek, she froze with the horror that comes with being unexpectedly touched - the uninvited, unwanted contact with the body of another. But her second thought was that this was a misunderstanding and would be easily rectified.

"James, what are you doing?" she started, keeping her tone light and unalarmed. "Hands off, please!" she added, wanting to sweep away any doubt that his advance was unwanted.

"Come on, Bella, you know you want this," he crooned in a voice he probably thought was soft and sexy. To Bella, it sounded creepy and threatening.

She tried to push his hands away, but they were latched onto her firmly. "James, please. Stop right now!" she tried again, conveying her insistence through her tone.

"Bella, Bella, I'm crazy about you, and you like me too... Come on..." James moved his hands up and down her body as if to emphasise his point. His touch was making Bella feel physically sick as she kept trying to wriggle away from him, and kept failing.

And his words made no sense. Why did he think that she liked him in that way? She had treated him as part of the group, not singling him out for any special attention. Suddenly, with crashing horror, a snippet of their conversation in the car came back to her.

_Someone here or at home? Here._

"No, no, you've got this all wrong. I didn't mean you. I'm sorry I gave you the wrong impression but..." Bella's voice began to crack a little as the panic began to seep all over her.

"Playing hard to get? Or do you just like being a tease? That's not very fair now, is it?" There was a definite roughness in his voice now. Then he spun her round and pushed her against a wall. The press of his weight on her and the darkness of the room left her feeling smothered and trapped. James lunged at her with his mouth and tried to kiss her.

"No!" she shouted in protest, but her objection was swallowed up by his greedy mouth. Her small hands flailed against his chest, but it was like a tiny bee boxing with a bear. His only reaction was to reach up into her hair, grab a handful of it and tug painfully. She whimpered and stopped moving, hoping that her stillness would pacify him in some small way, a magic plea that would bring him to his senses and release her.

But he continued kissing her roughly, his hand pulling her head and forcing her to stand with her body contorted painfully. With his other hand, he started to grab the hem of her dress. Bella squirmed frantically and tried to yell, but he countered this by releasing her hair so forcefully that her head banged against the wall.

He rapidly clapped his hand over her mouth. "Come on Bella, just a little fun," he told her, half breathless with the exertion of keeping her prisoner. His words added to her fury, and she began to buck furiously against his hold, trying to bite his skin where it was near her teeth.

"Stay still!" he growled and slapped her hard across the cheek. In that moment Bella felt the strength fly out of her, the fight in her subside and lie quietly. Her body sagged against the wall and she heard James murmur in approval.

His hand reached into the top of her dress and found the soft skin of her breast. His flesh against hers was more than she could bear, and nausea washed over her. The slap was still smarting on her cheek, and there was a ringing in her ears which only added to her disorientation.

James was still mauling her breast when she abruptly felt cool air against her skin. He was suddenly gone, and as Bella's eyes flew open, she saw him being dragged away from her, moving backward as if he were on wheels. With some surprise, she realised that she was screaming and crying, with tears of distress and terror coursing down her face. But when she saw a movement behind James, she fell silent.

Edward. Edward had pulled James off her, grabbing him with movements filled with rage and fury. Bella didn't need to see Edward's face to know that it was the face of a warrior, the mask of someone who was acting on a fierce instinct. He hurled her attacker across the room, leaving James sprawled on the floor, unable to coordinate his legs before Edward advanced upon him again. This time, Edward picked him up as if he were an insignificant beetle, and barrelled him out the door. Bella sank to the ground, all energy deserting her, capable only of watching as the two men exited the house, one propelled by force and the other by ferocious anger.

She heard nothing more for a while. In her dazed state, she could not tell exactly how long she waited. She lay slumped on the carpet, trying to subdue the ragged breaths escaping from her lungs. But suddenly Edward was there again, kneeling beside her, laying his gentle hands on her face, fingertips searching as if he were looking for cracks and splits. Then he was scooping her into his arms and lifting her up. Bella started to shake uncontrollably, the shock of it too much for her body. He murmured into her ear, words Bella could scarcely make out, but words that seemed to soothe her.

Edward carried her to the sofa and laid her down gently. As she felt the loss of contact from him she cried out, feeling like a wounded animal, and utterly shocked by what had just happened to her.

"Don't leave me!" she moaned in a jagged cry, which even to her ears sounded desperate and anxious. She clutched blindly for his hands.

"Shh, I won't. I won't leave," he said, smoothing down her hair as he knelt beside her. "I'll be back in a second. I'm only going to the kitchen."

A minute later, Edward reappeared, a cup of steaming sweet tea in his hand. He put it on the coffee table and urged her to drink when it was cool enough.

"Ye've had a terrible shock, Bella." He paused. "What happened to not getting into trouble tonight?"

"I was so wrapped up in the mess I made of letting Mike down that I didn't see the signs," Bella lamented quietly, her voice less shaky now that she felt Edward's soothing presence beside her, his fingers stroking her arm in a reassuring way. "I had no idea."

"No, that canny bastard had a devious plan no doubt, hatched when he saw his chance. Ye are not to blame for another's wickedness," he told her, and his air of authority was a comfort to her damaged sense of self-preservation.

"I don't even know why you're here, or how, or..." Bella faltered, the pile of unasked and unanswered questions heaping up around her. "But thank you. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"Here, drink your tea." Edward helped her sit up and drink with her unsteady hands. Then he pulled her onto his lap and cradled her in his arms until her heart was quieter. He used his long fingers to rub at a spot behind her ears and she felt herself grow so sleepy, she could barely keep her eyes open. His touch seemed soporific, but she was too exhausted to question it. After a long time sitting in the dark, she felt him rising and carrying her. She felt motion, and then the cooler air of her bedroom. As he laid her down on the soft mattress and pulled back the covers, she opened her eyes just long enough to see him hovering over her as she whispered, "Don't leave me, please." As she closed her eyes again, losing the battle with the force of sleep pulling her under, she thought she heard him reply with one word.

"Never."

When Bella finally resurfaced from the deep sleep she had fallen into, she knew immediately that the morning was half gone. The sun was high in the sky, and she could see the guillemots circling, swooping in graceful loops. She turned quickly, daring herself to believe that Edward would be there. And he was.

Bella tried not to gasp as she saw Edward in full daylight for the first time. His hair, fully dry for once, was an unruly shock of copper locks which flowed from his scalp in strands that made her think of seaweed floating on the sea. His eyes were green, a startling, vibrant shade you might find in the sea-green moss of a rock pool. High cheekbones and a strong angular jaw, with flawless smooth skin put Bella in mind of a statue carved from marble. And his lips were soft and full, so close to her that she found her breath catching in her chest. Everything about him was perfect. His beauty was otherworldly.

He had not left her. He had stayed right by her side all night and been her watchful protector. She felt more certain than ever that he surely had some sort of strange ability to make her sleep deeply. This was the second time he had hypnotised her into slumber, relieving her of anxiety and distress.

Edward was lying on his side, facing her. He was wide awake and staring straight at her, as if waiting for her to swim up from the depths of a deep pool and to create gentle ripples on the calm of the new day.

"Hey," she whispered softly, reaching out to let her hand touch the side of face. He smiled and took her hand into his, turning it toward him for a kiss before letting their hands rest on the pillow between them.

"Good morning, Bella," Edward said quietly. "Ye slept well?"

"Yes, indeed, as I think you know all too well. What power do you possess that induces sleep in people?"

Edward laughed, his eyes twinkling. "Perhaps it only works on you."

Bella sighed at the way he didn't answer her question directly. Edward grinned as if he knew how he was tormenting her with his half answers.

Reluctantly, Bella let the memories of the night before seep back to her. She shivered at the thought of James' hands on her, his fingers crawling over her skin. She raised her hand to touch the back of her head as she remembered the crack she had received when he roughly released her hair. She ran her fingers over her cheek where he had slapped her at the height of his madness. Bella tried not to feel like vomiting when she thought of her own helplessness against his strength and his crazed determination, and she tried not to cry when she thought about the situation she would be in this morning if Edward had not appeared. Edward watched her carefully and said nothing. His eyes tracked her every movement as if he were reading her mind and knew that she was trying to slot the pieces of the previous evening together in her head.

"James?" she whispered eventually.

"Gone," Edward replied.

"What do you mean? Gone where?"

"Ye di'na need to worry about him. He's not coming back," Edward stated calmly.

"Did you ... hurt him?" asked Bella, fearful that Edward had done something so huge and drastic that it could not be undone.

"Aye. I broke his nose and several ribs, I hope. He deserved a lot more," Edward declared with certainty.

Bella blew out a long breath and decided not to ask any more just now.

"I'm going to make ye some breakfast," Edward told her, and turned to get out of bed. Bella watched the muscles in his back flex as he stood up. He was wearing strange trousers that looked like nothing else she had seen before.

Bella lay back as she heard Edward moving around in the kitchen. She could not remember the last time someone had cooked for her, apart from her mother. She could only hope Renee would approve of the way Edward was looking after her. After last night, she felt sure Charlie would have approved wholeheartedly.

As Edward worked, he sang a lilting, haunting tune with traces of melancholy in it. He sang it so beautifully that Bella closed her eyes to listen intently. She was nearly asleep again as Edward placed a tray in front of her and told her to eat. He had made her an omelette, along with a cup of strong tea, and Bella ate it like a ravenous woman. He sat on the end of the bed and smiled as she ate, mumbling her appreciation as she went.

"Tis is rwelly good. Are you havin' some?" Bella said, her mouth half full.

Edward chuckled. "No, I've eaten. And di'na talk wi' yer mouth full. Now I'm going to run ye a bath."

When the tub was full, Edward came back into the bedroom and took the tray, pleased to see how much she had eaten. She went into the bathroom, trying to quash her unease about being separated from him, letting herself be comforted by the thought that he was still near, still protecting her. As Bella stepped into the hot foaming water of the bath, she saw only a few bruises on her arms as evidence of James' harsh grip the night before. She sank into the water, letting it soothe and relax her. There was a definite delight in being pampered by Edward in this way.

Once Bella was dressed, she stepped outside to find Edward gazing over the sea. It seemed calm, or as peaceful as a moving, living element could be. Edward looked pensive as he let his eyes roam over the waves, as if he were taking strength from them.

"You really love the sea, don't you?" Bella said to him.

"Aye, the sea is my certainty when all else is uncertain. It is one constant in a world of change," Edward replied, drawing her near and slipping his arm around her waist. Together they continued to take it in, with Bella trying desperately to see whatever Edward was seeing or sensing.

When a car pulled up outside the cottage, Bella was taken aback. Before they had a chance to move to the front of the croft, the small pixie figure of Alice bounded around the corner and into the garden.

"Bella, there you are," she said in an excited rush. "Oh, hello," she managed to add when she saw Edward standing there in only a pair of trousers.

"Alice? This is a nice surprise. I wasn't expecting you," Bella said, a little flustered at the way in which Alice was staring, open mouthed, at Edward.

"I ... I ... I just wondered how you were after disappearing so fast last night," Alice babbled, her eyes still transfixed on Edward's face.

Bella had the urge to laugh but decided it would be best not to. Edward was returning Alice's obsessive stare with a bemused one of his own. Eventually he broke eye contact and announced he was leaving.

"Nice to meet ye," he nodded to the mute Alice. "Bella, I'll see ye later." And he pulled her a fraction closer and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. Then he strode off gracefully down the sandy path to the beach.

Alice stood stock still and stared at the empty space where he had vanished from sight. Bella tugged at her sleeve and pulled her over to the bench.

"Who was that? And where did he come from?" whispered Alice, as if she were trying out her voice after a long silence.

"That was Edward. And he comes from..." And with this, she gestured to the water and the small islands in the distance.

"The sea? He comes from the sea?" pressed Alice, incredulity in her tone.

"No! He comes from one of the islands over there. That one," she said, pointing at one of the small, indistinct blurs on the horizon. "Or is it that one?"

"But how does he get there? Oh, he's the extreme swimmer, right?" Alice stared at her with a slightly wild look in her eyes, as if she had a fever. Bella barely had time to nod before Alice continued effusively. "So Mike came in muttering about how you like someone else, and then you disappeared with James, but this morning I find you all cosy with Edward, the god from the sea!" Alice summarised, waiting for Bella to agree.

However, the mention of James' name had the same effect that a hundred small stabs with a sharp pin on sensitive flesh might have had. The smile dropped off Bella's face, and she knew her eyes were a mirror of her shock and disgust.

Alice placed a hand on Bella's arm and looked her straight in the eye. "Tell me what happened, and don't leave anything out."

Intuitively Bella knew that it was useless to lie to her. Alice had known from the moment she spoke James' name that something was wrong, and if there was one thing she was good at, it was getting to the bottom of a secret. By the time Bella had finished the whole story and cried a little as the stress and panic were relived by the telling of the tale, Alice was bundling her into the car.

"We're going to the police. You need to report him." Alice was adamant.

"No, really, I just want to forget the whole thing. It's over now," Bella said, trying to pacify her.

"Oh yeah? What about the next girl he does this to?" Alice retorted, quick as a whip.

There was no good answer to that question, so with some reluctance, Bella allowed herself to be towed by Alice into the police station in Kirkwall. Her statement was taken by a very sympathetic female police officer who allowed her to take her time and reassured Bella she was doing the right thing by reporting it. The only difficulty came when Bella had to describe how Edward had appeared and pulled James away from her.

The officer carefully wrote down the name Edward Cullen and asked for his address and telephone number. Bella was stumped. She had no idea how to answer this question.

"He lives on one of the small islands. I can't remember its name. Or maybe he never told me. I'm not sure..." Bella's mind felt addled by the retelling of the night's events. "And I've never phoned him. I'm not sure he even has a phone."

The police officer wrote something down in her notes and then cleared her throat. "We will need to speak to Mr. Cullen. The next time you see him, please ask him to come to the police station as soon as possible so we can take his statement."

"Is he in trouble?" Bella was suddenly gripped with the fear that the police would make more out of Edward's involvement than she wanted.

"No, I very much doubt it. But it would help us build a case against Mr. Hunter if we had Mr. Cullen's account of the incident."

Alice linked arms with Bella and guided her out of the police station when it was all over. They had taken a full statement, photographed her bruises, and dug under her fingernails for any DNA evidence. For a moment, Bella regretted soaking in the hot bath, which most likely had eliminated any trace evidence, but the policewoman told her they probably had enough to go on.

"Lunch next," said Alice. "Where shall we go after that?"

"Can we go to Sule Skerry?" asked Bella on an impulse.

Alice wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "Boats rarely go there. It would be a bit hard to organise at short notice. How about we go and see The Old Man of Hoy?"

And so they found themselves travelling the road that led them round to Stromness, the second largest town in Orkney, hoping to be in time to catch the next ferry to the island of Hoy. The day was fair, with a light breeze, and being out in the countryside felt like a welcome relief after the claustrophobic atmosphere of the police station. Alice's style of driving was not unlike a Formula One rally driver, so Bella found it more conducive to her nerves to watch the scenery out the windows rather than observe Alice's daredevil antics on the narrow roads.

The short ferry ride helped Bella to feel further removed from the events of the last twenty-four hours. She stood on the deck and let the sea spray mist over her face, the roar of the ferry's engine filling her ears. Alice stood with her, watching her carefully as Bella sighed and took deep gulping breaths of sea air.

The Old Man of Hoy was a red sandstone sea stack, rising 137 metres into the air. The stone column looked as if it were made from discs of sliced rock, layered together to create a teetering tower. It was a beautiful, lonely formation, set apart from the nearby cliffs.

The cliffs were high and dangerous looking, cutting a dramatic line into the island's coast and falling straight into the sea below, where the tumultuous waves crashed relentlessly into the rocky outcroppings. Bella peered down and pondered the possibility of any living thing surviving in that turbulent maelstrom of frothy, freezing water, pulling and raging on the craggy stones.

They walked along the top of the cliffs for a while, letting the dramatic scenery permeate their senses. Alice informed Bella that fearless rock climbers liked to tackle The Old Man, and even more fearless ones liked to base jump from the top. Bella thought about the dangerous thrill she and Jake had shared when they had discovered cliff diving and smiled to herself.

Once the wind had started to chill them they were glad to spot a small croft ahead and they headed toward it. There they discovered that it was not only a home, but also an artist's studio, open for visitors, which was a common practice among the islanders. Bella pushed the door open and peered in.

"Come in, come in," called a voice. "Have a look around."

The girls were immediately drawn to different parts of the studio. Bella became absorbed in the pottery, painted in colours that reflected the blues, greens and greys of the Orkney landscape, lined up on tables in front of the windows. Each piece was unique, heavy in weight and expertly made. Bella picked some of them up, feeling their texture in her hands.

"My husband's," said the woman. "He's the potter and I'm the painter!" She laughed at herself as if this were a great joke. Bella smiled at her.

"What's that music playing?" asked Bella, her ears catching something that sounded a lot like the tune Edward had been singing this morning.

"The Ballad of Sule Skerry," replied Morag, for she wore a small name badge on her paint-smudged apron. "The song of the selkie, which he sings to his human lover. Do you know the story?"

"No," whispered Bella.

"Well, the song tells of a selkie, a human on land who has the form of a seal in the sea. The song tells of a selkie who foretold that he and his son, born to a woman, would be shot by a hunter, the woman's human husband."

"Oh, how sad," said Bella. "I love the tune. It's so haunting."

"Where are you from, dear?" asked Morag, glad of some company after a quiet day.

Bella chatted to Morag about her visit to Orkney until she felt a tugging at her elbow. Turning, she was faced with a white-faced Alice, who seemed once again to have the feverish look she had had that morning.

"Bella, come here. You'd better see this," Alice said to her in a low, nervous voice that would not have been out of place in a Halloween movie.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Bella allowed Alice to pull her to the other end of the small studio. She pointed to the wall, and Bella stared at the large old painting in front of them.

There was Edward, standing in the middle of the picture, identical in every detail, right down to the strange trousers he had worn that morning and the haphazard spikes in his copper-coloured hair. In the corner was the artist's signature and the date.

Bella gasped.

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A/N

Base jumping consists of jumping off heights and then using a parachute. You can see the first base jump off The Old Man of Hoy if you search on YouTube.

Leave a wee review and guess the date on the painting! Thanks for reading.


	11. An Ocean of Truth

**Thank you to my beta dellaterra and my pre-reader HoochieMomma for their fast work and hand holding. Remaining mistakes are mine because sometimes I can't leave things alone.**

**Thank you to all my reviewers. I hope I replied to everyone (some people have their PM function off). If I didn't reply please know that I appreciate them all. Special thanks to dj071688!**

**SM owns the original stuff.**

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Bella Swan didn't believe in the unbelievable. Stories of strange happenings could always be explained away if you thought about them long enough. Most strange occurrences were figments of people's imaginations and their own desire to see things that weren't there. Bella liked stories of coincidences as much as the next person, but they were usually just that: amazing coincidences.

But seeing Edward's likeness in that portrait was enough to make her suddenly doubt everything she had ever believed. First the photograph in the paper, and now this.

His old-fashioned way of speaking.

His ability to calm her when she was upset.

Her newfound creativity.

His appearance from and disappearance into the sea.

And the fact she knew next to nothing about him. He himself spoke of magic and other forms of life; why should she not believe he was some sort of magical, immortal being, sent from some mysterious underwater universe to bespell her?

As she processed all these thoughts in her head, Bella started to giggle, a giggle which was tipping over into hysterical laughter by the time Alice turned back to her to see what she made of it all.

"Do I need to slap you, Bella?" growled Alice _sotto voce_ as Morag crossed the room toward them. Bella straightened her shoulders as she tried to sober up.

"We were just admiring this portrait," Alice said conversationally.

"Oh, yes, 'The Young Man from the Sea'," intoned Moray wistfully. Alice and Bella exchanged a quick look as Morag gazed at the painting.

"This one was actually painted by my grandmother many years ago. Yes, in 1918. Look here in the corner," Morag said, pointing at the date that had left Bella gasping. "The story goes that this young man was her lover. He visited her every night for a summer and then disappeared. Some even say he was a selkie. Perhaps he came to her after she cried, when another man broke her heart. They say you can summon a selkie by -"

"Crying seven tears into the sea?" finished Bella, pieces of her mind splintering apart and flying around her brain in different directions. She too had cried, that second night in Orkney, tears of jet lag, homesickness, tears for Jake and the beach they used to share. What if Edward really was a selkie and she had summoned him?

"Your grandmother ... Was she happy with him?" Bella asked, feeling that the answer was imperative, a vital piece in the jigsaw.

"Oh yes. Apparently she was extremely happy with him. She said that she did her best work during that time. She always talked about him with very happy memories."

"What were their names?"

"My grandmother was Rebecca and the young man was ... I'm trying to think ..."

"Think, think!" screamed Bella in her mind. She held her breath and willed Morag to summon up the forgotten name from the depths of her memory. She wondered what she would do if the name was Edward. Would it answer everything, or just make the enigma that much worse?

"William, perhaps? Something like that. My gran died a number of years ago, I'm afraid," said Morag. Bella pulled a long breath into her lungs and try to steady her heart, thumping in her chest.

"Is the painting for sale?" asked Alice.

"No, I'm keeping it in the family. I just like to have it here for people to admire. Handsome chap, isn't he?" Morag said as she wrapped up an earthenware mug that Bella passed over absentmindedly to purchase. Alice shot Bella a look with one arched eyebrow and Bella felt herself blush slightly. When she had paid, they thanked Morag and let themselves out of the shop, heading back along the cliffs to the parking lot.

"So. Edward's a selkie then," Alice announced grandly when they reached the car, as if there were no room for argument.

Bella could have agreed with or denied this ridiculous statement. But she did neither. She just stared at the rough waves slamming into the cliff and breaking into foam over and over again, and wondered if Edward knew about the existence of this painting. Had he known she would come here, see it and discover he had not aged in ninety years? Perhaps he was hoping that she would realise there was no other reasonable explanation than that he was, indeed, a supernatural being who should not by rights exist. A shape-shifter, living in this world but coming from a parallel universe.

Bella could not bring herself to speak much on the way home, and by the time they reached her small cottage, she had the beginnings of a headache. Alice did not press her too much, but rather dropped her off with the promise to be back soon to discuss things.

After locking the door, Bella could do nothing else but crawl into bed and let her mind, exhausted by the myriad events of the past twenty-four hours, switch off. The sound of the ocean lulled her to sleep and she fell into a deep slumber, dreaming of nothing until she felt a gentle shaking of her shoulders. Rousing herself, she found Edward's green eyes staring into hers.

It was like receiving a shot of adrenaline straight to her heart. She gasped, and her hand reached up to grasp around his neck, as if touching him would provide the answers she needed, like some strange sort of osmosis. For a second, his eyes flickered in surprise, but when Bella pulled his face down to her own, he put up no resistance. Only an inch apart, they breathed in the same air and regarded each other silently, solemnly. Then Edward touched his lips to hers and kissed her slowly. Bella felt herself become weaker and stronger at the same time. Being kissed by Edward was like being fed after starving for a long time. There was tenderness and gentleness, but there was no denying the fundamental need that fuelled the exploration they were starting. Edward leaned closer and let the warm flesh of his body touch Bella's, and she moaned with the sensation of the weight of him. His hand found her hand, his fingers intertwined with hers and he pushed them into the soft covers.

Searching hands and fingers reached into her hair as if he wanted to know every inch of her from head to toe. Bella was the same, letting her fingertips roam over every piece of skin she could find. And what she found was soft, almost velvety, warm and smooth. Under this soft skin were layers of hard, developed muscle that told her of power and strength. His musculature was solid, unyielding to her touch but she did not feel frail; she felt a force building in her she had never encountered before, a vigour that was pushing and pulsing as if it were the tide itself inside her, something elemental.

Edward paused in his kissing, and held her gaze, as if he were looking into her very soul. "I've been waiting for ye," he announced. His eyes seemed to glow, a preternatural brightness in them. "I've been biding my time until ye asked for me."

Bella didn't know what he meant. How long had he been waiting? Perhaps he meant since he felt the connection between them. Could it be that he was hinting at something preordained? Did he know that she would come to Orkney before she had even heard of it? And what did he mean about asking for him? She blushed when she thought of pulling him into her bed, and then dismissed that small embarrassment as she felt him kissing her collarbone and running his fingers over her breasts.

Bella became aware of the sea outside, louder than she had thought possible, as she helped Edward shed her of her clothes. It seemed to be crashing on the beach below her cottage as if it were joyous at what was happening inside that room, joining in with their racing hearts and pulses. She was glad to be rid of her clothing, welcoming her nakedness and the feel of Edward's body against hers. Her skin seemed to drink him in and every cell in her felt more alive than ever before. He kissed her more, removing his few items of clothing at the same time, lying over her and running his hands lower and lower.

Suddenly she felt hot, burning everywhere as if something inside her had melted. Some secret part of her had been set alight, released into her veins and was travelling all through her, heating her from the inside out. She almost wanted to stop and ask Edward, _"Do I feel hot? Am I burning?"_ until she realised it was her own desire, ignited and radiating through her. She almost wanted to laugh but Edward was kissing her intently and it was hard to hold onto any thought as her body reverberated with his touch and shook with the intensity.

As Edward bent his head and kissed her breasts she moaned, flashes of light and spikes of delight racing through her. She found her fingers were clutching his hair in a tight grip as Edward increased the stimulation, sucking and biting gently on her nipples. Desperation was flooding her now, the feeling so strong that she felt she would not survive if he did not touch her where she needed it most. And, as if he knew her every desire, he did. Bella bucked her body with the sensation but Edward didn't relinquish his touch upon her. She felt herself writhe beneath him, her neck arched against the pillow and she felt his mouth kiss a line from her jaw to her belly as he continued building the burn in her until she was gasping against him.

"Bella?" he asked and kissed her deeply.

"Yes," she replied when he broke his mouth apart from hers, and pulled his hips to her. Her breath felt shaky and ragged, while he seemed to be watching her seriously and calmly. He pushed against her entrance and she felt herself open, gasping again at the feeling of him entering her. Then Edward moaned softly, an animalistic sound that made her heart pound even faster. He moved in her, tentative and slow at first, as if he were afraid of hurting her. But as she clutched at his shoulders, pressing her fingers into his skin, trying to convey what she could not find the words to tell him out loud, he began to move faster, driving into her with more power and increasing his pace. Then she could no longer tell what her fingers were doing as her hips moved with his and the burn in her rose up in a crescendo. As it reached the pinnacle, bliss flooded her, breaking her into pieces, into floating atoms and particles. Edward moved even faster, clasping her hand and pushing it into the pillow above her head, his breath against her cheek heavy with need. Then he stilled and groaned with a resonance of deep satisfaction, and let his body sag against hers. Bella listened to their hearts as she let the miniscule pieces of herself reassemble themselves in her body, knowing that nothing would ever be the same again.

In the half-darkness, there was only the sound of their breathing and the sea, heard through the window panes. It seemed sated and quieter now, matching the mood in the room. The urgency she had heard before had gone. Bella lay there, staring at nothing at all, content, with Edward at her side, drawing small circles on her shoulder blades. His warm body was pressed up against hers, and she relaxed in the feeling of his heat and smooth skin. There was no need to ask intrusive questions, to query his existence, his mortality, his foothold in the only world she knew. All that could wait. He was here, and that was enough for the moment. Bella dozed peacefully. When she awoke at midnight, Edward was sitting beside her with a plate of food and a mug of tea.

"Thought ye might be hungry," he said, smiling as he passed the plate over to her.

Bella was indeed very hungry. She had only picked at her lunch and now her appetite had returned full-force. Wrapping the sheet around her naked chest, she accepted the food gratefully. Once she was halfway through the huge sandwich he had made her, she stopped. The questions in her head were not going to go away and this was the time to ask them.

"Which island do you live on, Edward?"

"Uley. It's very small, only a few houses. I'm the only inhabitant at the moment." Edward responded.

"How long have you lived there?"

"A while," he answered, looking straight into her eyes.

"How long is a while?" Bella waited a second and then couldn't help herself from blurting out, "How old are you, Edward?"

Edward chuckled in a way that Bella suspected meant he was not particularly happy about these questions but had perhaps been expecting them.

"Perchance older than I look." He shrugged his shoulders as if he were being playful with her.

"Just answer the damn question!" Bella pressed him.

"Answers are usually things ye already know but don't want to admit to yerself," Edward told her enigmatically.

Bella stared at him and placed the rest of her sandwich on the plate. His answer sounded a lot like a challenge to her. It was possible he was telling her to say it, to speak the ridiculous thought in her head, the unimaginable notion that he was not fully human, that he was a shape-shifter who was living an immortal life.

"Edward," she began carefully. "Let me tell you a story. This afternoon Alice took me to Hoy. We visited an artist's studio, and there on the wall was a portrait of ... of ..." She ran out of courage to finish her story.

Edward sat impassively, as if he were a life model, sitting for the artist who had recreated him on canvas. His stillness seemed to invite her to continue.

"You. It was you, isn't it? Even though the picture was dated 1918." Bella hoped that saying this would be some sort of key to unlock the kist that contained all the answers.

Edward smiled a small, sweet smile. "I could tell ye two things. I could tell ye that of course it is not me; it is a relation of mine to whom I bear an uncanny likeness. Or I could tell ye that yes, it is indeed me, and ye would have to readjust everything ye believe about the world ye live in. Which do ye prefer, Bella?"

She chewed her lip. She knew what he was saying. He was giving her a way out of this. If she took option A, he would never reveal the truth to her, and they would never speak of it again. If she chose option B, the kist would be opened and the secrets revealed to her.

"I know what you are," she whispered across the brief distance between them.

"Say it," he whispered back. "Say it out loud."

"You are a selkie," she said, a little louder than his whisper.

"Yes."

Bella might have expected to feel shock, to feel the foundations of everything she understood shift and slide, but she felt nothing like that. It was relief, pure and simple relief, to have him confirm what she had suspected in the darkest corners of her mind.

"You're not an extreme swimmer," she said.

"No. Well, I am. Just not in the way I implied," chuckled Edward. "The sea is my home, but I do go to Uley a lot." He took her small hand in his large, soft one, and Bella felt grateful for the contact, as if somehow feeling the warm, living skin and bone of him made her connected to everything that was real, despite the content of their conversation.

"So, how old are you?" Bella asked him. He looked no older than twenty-five, but Bella could not predict what number he would give her.

"Somewhere around 165 years old," he replied. "Selkies live a long time, so long as they are not hunted by men," he shrugged.

"Are you the only one? Are there more of you?"

"Oh aye, there are lots of selkies. We have families. A community, leaders, just like anywhere," he explained, and he would have continued but Bella suddenly looked very pale and tired. The last day had been one of upsetting trauma and unsettling revelations. He pulled her into his arms and lay down with her.

"Are you going to do that thing that puts me to sleep?" Bella sighed as she relaxed into his embrace.

"Aye. Do ye mind? We can talk more tomorrow," he said, pressing his fingers into her skull behind her ears.

"You must have a seal skin. Where do you hide it?" Bella mumbled as sleep started to seep into her body, sliding her out of consciousness.

"I'm not going to tell ye that. I've got to have some secrets," he said with a chuckle as she drifted off. She dreamed of water and waves and sleek, graceful seals swimming ahead of her, always out of reach.

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A/N

kist – a wooden chest

Wise dellaterra found this chapter title for me – it is by Isaac Newton. _"I was like a boy playing on the sea-shore, and diverting myself now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me."_ In my mind, Bella feels like that right now.

I'm off to hide for a while. Please review! Thanks.


	12. Light and Dark

**Thank you to my beta dellaterra and my pre-reader HoochieMomma. The time they give to The Selkie Man means everything to me. Remaining mistakes are mine.**

**Thank you to all my reviewers. I heart you all.**

**SM owns the originals.**

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Edward Cullen had taken human lovers before. During his long lifespan there had been plenty of women, some land dwellers and some from the sea. Sometimes the women of the earth called to him through their tears, usually in distress for a love that had deserted them. Sometimes they had called him, or others of his kind, just to see if they would come. Edward did not mind the reason, for once they saw him and allowed themselves to be charmed by him, they became malleable clay in his hands. And if there was a baby made of the union, so much the better. The selkies welcomed all new babies to their underwater home, as the population was often at risk from men who hunted them.

But Isabella Swan was different.

Firstly, she had not meant to summon him. She had no idea that crying her tears into the ocean that day would start a chain of events that she could only have imagined in a Hollywood movie. She was intriguing and beautiful, and had kept her distance until she could bear it no longer. There was no doubt that she felt the pull toward him, but he had had to wait for her. He wouldn't have taken what he wanted unless she asked for it, and when that happened, he was thrilled and relieved by it.

Edward lay in bed and watched Bella sleeping as shafts of early sunlight began to break though the curtains. He looked at her long, dark hair fanned against the pillow, the curve of her shoulder and the dip of her back, and he watched the light reflect upon her skin. She was sleeping peacefully now and he smiled to himself as he thought about how she had surprised him the night before. He found that he had to resist touching her, resist connecting his skin with hers. The temptation grew until he forced himself out of bed and into the kitchen.

Bella stirred after a while and opened her eyes to find Edward bringing her a tray of food.

"You are spoiling me. I could get used to this!" Bella exclaimed, picking up her cutlery.

"Do ye feel like writing this morn?"

"Yes, I think I do. Does this have something to do with you too?" she asked him, between mouthfuls of breakfast.

"Aye, it is a gift we have. We can bring ye luck for what ye need. If ye were a fisherman, I could bring ye fish. Instead I bring ye words."

Bella frowned. Edward hastened to reassure her.

"They are still yer words. I just free yer mind to get them out of yer head and onto the page."

She nodded, relieved, and grateful to him for unlocking her creativity, for lifting the dam that allowed her words to flow forth unimpeded. Edward was the gatekeeper, allowing them to bubble up from deep within her and spill onto the page.

Once Bella was ready to settle down to writing for a few hours, Edward announced he was going to leave until the evening. He pulled her close and kissed her deeply as he bade her farewell. Bella was torn between letting him go and tugging at his arm like a petulant toddler to make him stay. She retained her dignity and allowed him to leave, watching him gracefully stride down the path to the sea. She tried to picture him gathering up his sealskin from its hiding place and shrugging himself into it, but it was too hard to imagine. It seemed so absurd that she began to wonder if she had dreamed their conversation and his admission from the night before.

Bella wrote well for the next few hours. Edward's gift worked like a charm, allowing her to fill page after page. The first draft of her novel would be finished in a few weeks if she kept up this pace. She smiled as she thought about her professor and how often he had despaired over her reluctance to commit to the page. He was in for a big shock.

It was just after lunch when Bella heard a car arriving. Officer Cope had driven out from Kirkwall to see Bella and give her an update on their investigation.

"We have Mr. Hunter in custody," she announced. Bella felt an instantaneous mixture of relief and anxiety. She sat down quickly to hide her shaking knees. Shelley Cope sat down on the armchair beside her and explained that James Hunter had admitted his guilt regarding his attack on Bella two nights before.

"We found Mr. Hunter in a most unusual place," Officer Cope continued. "Marwick's Hole. I don't suppose you are familiar with it?"

Bella shook her head and remained silent.

"It is the dungeon in St. Magnus Cathedral."

Immediately Bella recalled the immense sandstone church in Kirkwall that she had noticed numerous times on her visits to the island's largest town. But how had James ended up there, in a dungeon? Her confusion must have been written all over her face, for Officer Cope continued with the details.

"There is a holding pen or dungeon in the cathedral. Unique I think, and certainly not used in recent years. But that's where he was found. The minister heard him call for help. Luckily, whoever locked him in there was kind enough to leave the key on the outside of the door. Otherwise we would have had quite a job getting him out."

Shelley Cope paused and regarded Bella for a moment. "Mr. Hunter can't recall how he ended up there and we would be very interested to know that detail too. Especially as that key to the door of the dungeon hadn't been seen for eighty years."

Bella instantly tried to smooth the look of alarmed surprise from her face.

"The Mr. Cullen you mentioned... Have you seen him recently?" asked Shelley Cope.

"No," lied Bella, willing her cheeks not to flare with a telltale redness.

"Well, we really need to speak to him about giving a statement," Officer Cope said. "I must say, he seems to be a man of mystery."

"What do you mean?" Bella's heart plummeted straight to the bottom of her stomach.

"I ran a check on him. He is not in any of our systems. There is nothing to indicate that he resides here. Or anywhere, in fact."

Bella groaned inside. She never thought that giving Edward's name to the police would raise these issues. And she had forgotten to mention her visit to the police to him. She wondered what his reaction would be.

"Perhaps I got his name wrong. I'll ask him when I see him," Bella told Officer Cope as she was showing her out. The petite policewoman nodded as if Bella was probably correct, got in her car and drove off.

An hour later, Alice arrived and Bella knew she wouldn't be so easy to shake off. Bella led her into the kitchen with a certain amount of trepidation about the difficult and dogged questioning that she knew was coming.

"Well, how goes it with the young man from the sea?" started Alice, in no mood for chitchat.

"Fine, thanks," replied Bella, buying time with a neutral answer.

"So, is he a selkie or not? Did you ask him?" Alice probed, with the air of a woman on a mission.

"Of course not, Alice. Don't be absurd." Bella filled the kettle, unable to look straight into Alice's eyes while she lied for the second time that afternoon.

"Okay, you're lying. But I get that. I mean, he probably swore you to secrecy, right?" Alice mused. "Or threatened to carry you off to his underwater lair, to dwell with the selkies."

Bella put the kettle down and stared at Alice. Her mind was racing at a frantic speed, trying to work out how much Alice knew and how much she was making up. "You sound like you're living in a science fiction novel," she retorted.

"Hey, I'm not the one dating a supernatural being. And don't forget immortal. How old is he?"

"About 165," said Bella crisply, just to see the look on Alice's face.

"Wow. Pretty old then," said Alice, who barely batted an eyelid. Bella reflected there and then that Alice would be an excellent person to have on hand in an emergency. "So what happens now?"

"Well, we haven't gotten that far. We're still getting to know each other." Bella fought to keep the blush off her cheeks as she thought of the way they had explored each other's bodies the night before.

They were both silent for a while as they sipped the coffee Bella had made for them.

"Traditionally, islanders have stolen their selkie's skin and hidden it, to keep them here, to keep them from returning to the sea," Alice offered, as if this advice would be useful to Bella.

"You think I should trap him to keep him here? That doesn't sound very nice," Bella said a little scornfully. "Anyway, Edward told me they sicken and crave the sea if they are away from it for too long."

"Mmm. Traditionally," Alice began again and Bella rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. "Traditionally, the children born to selkies and humans are very beautiful."

"Well, I'm not having a baby with Edward. I'm far too young for motherhood," said Bella. "And anyway, would this child be more selkie or more human? Land or sea? Where would it fit in?"

"Perhaps you need to do some more research on this," suggested Alice. "Library?"

An hour later they were walking into Kirkwall Public Library. Jessica was pleased to see them, despite a few not-so-subtle hints about Bella's sudden departure from the céilidh with James. When Bella did not volunteer any information, Jessica dropped the subject and steered them over to the reference section. She pointed out some books that might be useful to them and then retired behind the desk again.

Many of the books were collections of tales that had been gathered over the years as a record of island folklore. Bella loved reading the tales but was frustrated to find that they contained few of the answers she sought. She could not reconcile the stories, many of which seemed like the stuff of fairy tales, with the reality of Edward's existence. She was struggling to find any information that would shift the feeling of unease that lay in the pit of her stomach.

After a while, she left Alice flicking through books and logged onto a spare computer. Finding a list of new messages in her in-box, she spent a while typing replies to let people know she was safe and well. Her mother wanted to know if she had met any nice young men, but Bella glossed over that question, deciding to leave it for another day.

Once that was done, Bella typed 'selkies' into the search engine. A long list of web pages popped up and Bella selected several to read. Nothing jumped out at her until this paragraph;

"_If a girl went missing while out on the ebb, or at sea, it was inevitably said that her selkie lover had taken her to his watery domain — assuming, of course, she had not attracted the eye of a Finman."_

Firstly, Bella found her thoughts jumping straight to someone she had not considered since dealing with Mike's fumbling declaration of interest: Rose. Was it possible that Rose's disappearance had something to do with Edward, or another selkie?

Secondly, what was a finman? Bella clicked on the link provided by the article. It did not make for pleasant reading. In fact, the more Bella read, the more the hairs on her neck stood on end and her back shivered as if the fingertip of a ghost had trailed down it.

Whereas the selkies were thought to be gentle and peaceable, the finmen were malicious beings, rumoured to be partial to snatching mortals from the shore and taking them prisoner. They were shape-shifters too, but they were not restricted to one form as the selkies were. They could adopt numerous guises, allowing them to undertake many devious and wicked acts against unsuspecting humans. They had an underwater kingdom called Finfolkaheem, where human women were made to bear their children. Finwives were always in search of a human husband. Finding one allowed them to become a beautiful mortal woman whereas having to marry one of their own kind meant they would grow ugly and grotesque.

Bella read and read, clicking on link after link after link. Alice came to join her at one point and Bella could only motion with her finger, barely taking her eyes off the screen. Alice brought up the same page on the computer next to Bella's and the two of them read in silence.

After half an hour of intense reading they stopped what they were doing and turned to each other.

"Finmen and so forth don't exist," said Alice.

"Yeah? Neither do selkies, and yet I know one who would beg to differ," answered Bella. "I'm thinking that a lot of the disappearances around this island may have something to do with these finmen. Charles, Emilio, Rose."

Alice's face, usually so positive and upbeat, suddenly creased as if she were about to cry.

"Actually, I've just remembered something," said Bella. "When I was telling Edward about Rose, he knew her surname. Perhaps he knows the truth about what happened to her..." Bella's voice trailed off as if she were really just thinking aloud.

Alice sniffed and blew her nose. "Let's take some notes and then I'll take you home. Looks like you'll have a lot of questions for Edward," she said.

After Alice dropped her off, Bella waited patiently, at first outside and then inside. As it grew colder, she wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and settled into the sofa. But when she woke with the morning sun rising and the seagulls swooping in the sky, she realised, with a disappointment that felt like a physical ache, that Edward had not come at all.

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A/N

Marwick's Hole really does exist, in case you are wondering.

Readers who review this chapter will receive a small outtake explaining why Edward did not visit last night.

Yes, I do know it is bribery. But thank you for reading!


	13. The Family Secret

**Thank you to my beta dellaterra and my pre-reader HoochieMomma. They always keep me right and I am so grateful for that.**

**This week I have had some reoccurring computer problems so this is a few days later than planned. There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth, I can assure you. Please PM me if the chapter 12 outtake did not arrive with you.**

* * *

Bella didn't understand why Edward had not arrived to see her. Nothing he had done or said had indicated that he would not return from the sea, up the path and to her croft. She veered between a list of sensible, rational reasons for his absence and an outlandish worst-case scenario that made her feel sick to her stomach. She barely forced down a piece of toast while pacing back and forth in the garden, staring all the time at the dark, choppy waves.

She did not write. She could not write. She tried, but everything seemed trite or pathetic. The dam had returned, blocking her words. It frightened her to think that without Edward she might never again write a sentence she would be happy with.

When midday came, she decided to leave the cottage and walk to the main road. She had little idea where she would go once she got there, but it seemed preferable to pacing around the garden or up and down the beach like a restless animal, waiting for him.

As she was reaching the main road, a familiar red car came beetling toward her. Mike pulled up at the side of the road and motioned for her to get into the passenger's seat. Bella did so, but braced herself for what kind of mood would greet her once she was inside the car.

"Hey, Bella... Umm... I feel I should apologise for the other night." Mike faltered a little, clearly nervous. "I hope I didn't make you feel uncomfortable."

Bella managed to smile at him and told him not to worry about it. Mike breathed out a sigh of relief. He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, unfolding it before he passed it over to her. "Jessica said she forgot to give you this. She looked up your family tree for you. Sometimes the library can be quiet, you know. Anyway, look at the name here."

He pointed to the end of one of the branches of the tree, and Bella read the name _Esme McNab, b. 1940._

Mike traced her lineage back to show Bella how she and Esme McNab were distantly related and then announced that Esme lived only twenty miles away along the coastline road.

"Want to go meet a member of your family?" he asked her as he revved the engine. Bella could find neither the energy nor the inclination to grin enthusiastically but Mike didn't seem to notice as he accelerated down the road.

Esme lived in the smallest house among an extremely small collection of houses. The hamlet was called Redland, after a nearby piece of coastline. The house was stone built and old, but well kept with a garden full of bright blooms. Bella wondered if this old lady - she must be over seventy - would be surprised to see two strangers approaching her front door, one of whom was about to announce that she had some long-departed relation in common.

They rang the door bell and waited. An elegantly dressed lady, with white hair swept up into an intricate bun, answered.

"Hello, Miss McNab," began Mike. "We are sorry to call on you unannounced. My name is Mike Newton and this is Bella Swan."

"Oh, yes. I've been expecting you," she replied, holding the door open for them to enter. Mike and Bella exchanged a bewildered look and then followed the direction of Esme's outstretched hand.

She followed them into a modern living room that was cluttered with photos, memorabilia and ornaments and directed them to a dark green sofa. Then she walked toward a highly polished cupboard made from some sort of dark wood, complete with ornate twirled carvings around the top. She opened the cabinet and pulled out a heavy, important-looking book.

"The family Bible," Esme announced. She opened the first page and there was another family tree. She ran her finger over the names until she found the one she was looking for and pointed it out for Bella. Bella peered across and saw _Charles Swan, b. 1964._

"My dad," Bella whispered in astonishment at seeing her father's name and the year of his birth in a stranger's house - a relative she had not even known existed until an hour ago.

"Let me update this," the woman said, fetching a fountain pen. "Did he marry?"

Bella quickly realised she needed to give an abridged history of her father's life, for whichever relation had some knowledge of the name and date of birth of her father had obviously known no more after that. She supplied her mother's name and the date of their marriage. Next, Esme needed Bella's full name and the year of her birth. Once that was completed, Esme smiled and declared she was putting the kettle on.

"What did she mean, she was expecting us?" murmured Bella as Esme left the room.

"Beats me. Perhaps she has the second sight?" muttered Mike back to her. "Although if she does, she wouldn't have needed all those details to update the family tree." He chuckled quietly at his own wit. Bella frowned.

Esme appeared with a tea tray and placed it on a table. It was laden with a teapot, cups, saucers and a plate of cookies. After she had set it down, she picked up a milk jug and shook it theatrically.

"Do you know I ran out of milk just before you got here?" she said, her face a picture of irritation. "And it is such a long walk to the nearest shop! I'm seventy-one, you know."

Mike cleared his throat and rose out of his seat. "I'll get you some milk, Miss McNab. My car is outside so it won't take long."

"Oh my goodness, what a nice young man! Very kind of you. In fact I'll just make a wee list for you. Let me just write down a few things I need," Esme told him as she disappeared from the room. Bella looked across at Mike, who simply shrugged his shoulders, and felt a newfound affection for him.

Esme appeared with a list of groceries she suddenly required and a ten-pound note. Bella and Esme waved him off as he started the twenty-mile round trip to the nearest shop and then Esme turned to her. "Right. That's got rid of him for a while. Let's go in and talk."

Bella spluttered and looked agog. "Got rid of him?" she repeated.

"Aye. I've got plenty of milk," Esme whispered conspiratorially. "We just needed him out the way so we can talk."

Bella trailed behind Esme into the living room and sat down, feeling a little like a character in a play where the plot is still unclear to the audience.

Esme settled herself and then began. "So, has he come to you then?" was her opener.

"Who?" replied Bella, who felt the nerves in her body tighten and tense.

"The selkie, of course. Has he come to you? Did you summon him?"

"Yes, but I didn't mean to. It was unintentional. I had no idea," answered Bella, giving herself over to the unexpected course of the conversation.

"No matter; he would most likely have come to you anyway. Which one is it? Which one of the selkies?"

"Edward," Bella told her, trying not to let his name catch in her throat with emotion. "Why would he have come to me anyway? I don't understand."

Esme nodded. "Look here. I'm going to show you something."

Esme pulled the Bible in front of them and opened it again to the family tree. She ran her finger up some of the branches and stopped at the name of Charlotte McNab. "My great-great-great-grandmother. She was the first to fall in love with one of them."

Bella blinked rapidly and felt the cogs in her brain sharply grind to a halt. She raised her hand and rubbed her forehead as if she had a pain there.

"Charlotte cried her tears into the sea for her lost husband, a fisherman who did not come home one day. The selkie came to her the next month, and bewitched her with his charms. When he left her - for he could not stay longer than a year and a day - she became so distraught that she threw herself into the ocean in her grief."

"Was her body ever found?" asked Bella, clinging to her theory that the sea was not solely responsible for the missing people of Orkney.

"No, I don't think so," confirmed Esme. Then she pointed to various names on the family tree. "One selkie after another has come to all of these women in our family. We must have some connection to them, something in our blood or our DNA; I cannot say."

"Rebecca," uttered Bella. "She painted a portrait of Edward in 1918."

Esme nodded and pointed to a name on a far-flung branch of the tree, _Rebecca McNab, b. 1900, d. 1990_. Bella peered closely. She was distantly related to Rebecca, and Morag from the studio in Hoy.

"Did one of them come to you?" Bella asked, and then felt embarrassed for what suddenly seemed like a very personal question.

Esme was not phased. "No, but I moved away and lived in Edinburgh for a long time. I was more than middle aged when I returned here."

"He did not come last night," Bella said urgently, as if she had remembered that Mike was on his way back and she had no time to lose. "Why would he not come, when he said he would?"

Esme looked gravely at her. "It could be nothing. He may come tonight. But, Bella, you must realise that there are more malevolent beings out there than the selkies."

"The finmen?" suggested Bella.

"Aye, the finfolk, gloomy sorcerers. They are fond of spiriting away captives. And the finwives, with their hypnotic singing that enchants men who happen to hear it. But there are the hill trows too and the sea trows, although they are uncommonly stupid creatures. And there is the Nuckelavee, the most dreaded of all the otherworldly beings. There is no escaping from him when he rides up to you on his horse."

"Where can I find the finfolk?" Bella asked, although she was unsure why; finding them seemed like a perilous idea.

"In winter they dwell in Finfolkaheem, an underwater kingdom at the bottom of the sea. It is said to be made with crystals halls and lit with the phosphorescent glow of the sea. It has ornate gardens of multicoloured seaweed and heaps of pearls lying around. But in summer they reside on the hidden isle known as Hildaland. The mortal islanders cannot see it unless they are granted the sight of it by magic. It is surrounded by a dense fog to protect it."

"Have you seen it? Have you been there?" asked Bella.

"No, lass. And you have no business looking for it," said Esme in a voice laced with caution. "Don't meddle in things you cannot understand. It is too dangerous."

Bella understood her warning. The more she learned about the folktales of Orkney, the less like Disney cartoons they seemed. It was more like a horror film, with evil characters plotting against the mortals for their own amusement. But Bella was wracked with worry about why Edward had not come last night. The thought of not seeing him again that night made her feel desolate. Bella rubbed her head, trying to soothe away a sharp headache that was pinching at her brain.

"What did you mean, you were expecting us?" asked Bella, remembering the strange way Esme had greeted them on her doorstep.

"News travels fast on the island," said Esme matter-of-factly. "I heard there was a young American girl here with some family connections. It was just a matter of time before you came and found me. And I knew the selkie would find you, and you would need some answers."

Hearing Mike's car pull up outside, Esme shot Bella a warning look and closed the Bible. He made a big production of carrying in the shopping bag and telling them all about his shopping trip. He accepted a lukewarm cup of tea and ate two cookies in quick succession before they bade farewell to Esme, with promises to visit again.

Mike dropped her off at the cottage after arranging to pick her up the next evening for another trip to the pub. Bella agreed because Alice and Jessica were coming and she desperately wanted to talk to Alice. James was not mentioned, and Bella wondered if Mike knew he was in police custody after his night in the cathedral dungeon.

She paced around the garden again. Then she paced through the living room and the kitchen. She wandered onto the beach and paced along the shoreline before returning home and crawling into bed. Exhausted and confused, she slept. She had been asleep for two hours before she felt someone shaking her shoulders.

"Edward?" she called out, groggy with sleep.

"Aye, aroon, tis me," Edward whispered to her in his low, velvety voice.

Bella reached out blindly and clutched at the smooth skin of his shoulders. She felt tears rising up and choking her throat.

"You didn't come last night. I didn't know where you were," she said, trying not to let her voice break. "And who is aroon?"

Edward chuckled and climbed in the bed beside her. "It means 'beloved one'. Ye are my aroon," he said softly, kissing her on the inside of her wrist.

As she felt his weight settled on the bed beside her Bella forgot all attempts to keep her emotions reined in. Calling her his beloved one tipped her over the edge and the tears rolled freely down her cheeks. Her reaction was a release and yet frightening at the same time. Was it normal to feel so involved and attached to someone she barely knew? And how could she be his beloved one? In her mind's eye, Bella saw her family tree and Esme pointing out all the women in her ancestry that the selkies had visited. How many had Edward come to?

"I am not your aroon!" she told him crossly, gulping back the tears. "You have visited many women. I'm no different!"

Edward made a noise like a low chuckle in the back of his throat and ran his finger across her cheek, wiping away her distress. "Ye are different, Bella. I have loved others with my body. Ye, I love with my mind."

"What?" whispered Bella, feeling dazzled, as if his words shone so brightly that they were blinding her.

"Tis true. We selkies hope to find our true love, our other half. Some never do and always keep looking. But I have found ye. Ye are mine, if ye will hae me." With that he kissed her fingers and all over the palm of her hand. Then he leaned down and kissed her gently on each cheek and Bella instantly felt calmer. She was still astonished, mystified by his declaration. And now there were new questions about their future. But she looked into his eyes, shining brightly with promises and calm assurances. The questions could wait. She ran her fingers down his face and sighed deeply. In the night light she saw him smile and then she saw nothing at all as he kissed her slowly and intensely.

Bella felt her headache release its grip on her head and vanish. Her body was revivified by the touch of Edward's hands, stroking her, caressing her. Perhaps there were questions she should be asking, truths she should be demanding, but suddenly those things seemed secondary to her need, and his.

His lips were working some sort of magic on her, making her agitation at his disappearance and his unexpected declaration of love, dissolve into the moonlight. As Edward kissed her and helped her slide her shirt over her head, she was consumed with the fire she had felt before, her burning sparked by his touch, his scent, his unmistakeable desire for her. Her pulse quickened and her body flushed, filling with light and heat. She felt as if she must surely be glowing, radiating with the energy Edward seemed to be emanating as he touched her everywhere with his long silken fingers.

After he finished undressing her, and then himself, Bella welcomed that strange combination of his strong muscles and velvet skin as he lay with her. Again she heard the sea outside and heard her heart racing and jumping as if it were a pebble on the beach pulled back and forth by the relentless tide. She placed her hand over Edward's smooth chest, feeling for the beat of his heart and found it steady and rhythmic. He mirrored her action, but placed his mouth over her heart, as if feeling its racing beat with his lips. Then he lifted his head and regarded her carefully.

"Why is yours slow and steady?" she murmured. "Mine is leaping."

"Tis the way with the selkies," he answered her. "We can make yer body feel everything more intensely."

"Show me," she whispered to him.

"Aye lass, gladly," he replied, his breath fanning over her cheek as he bent to kiss her neck again. She felt his fingers stroke her and charge her skin with his touch, setting off a coiling inside her that wound tighter and tighter. Bella moaned softly and moved her body closer to him, knowing only that she needed him, she craved him. Half human, half seal, a supernatural being, an immortal alien - what did any of that matter when she knew he could set her free, take her further than any man before. She sighed in anticipation and relief as he worked his mouth lower and lower across her belly.

Every part of her was being coaxed with flames. There was not an ounce of her that could keep still nor silent as she moaned for more and more. She felt her limbs twist and turn under his incessant touch, his relentless assiduities. There was no tomorrow, no worry about the future. The only imperative was now, this second and perhaps the next. She wanted his touch, his tongue, his body, to never relinquish their power over her.

When he finally entered her she clung to him like a survivor on a shipwreck. He was her answer. Outside were the tempestuous sea and a secret world she had no place in or understanding of. Yet here she was lying with Edward, willing him to drive her to the brink of what every nerve and cell in her could bear. And as he moved, the coil sprung and released within her and joy like a liquid fire leapt through each muscle and molecule of her, sending her skyward for that all too brief moment. Then she sank back into her body, dazed, elated, transmuted by the intensity of it. He felt it too for he kissed her all over and whispered to her until she found her voice and could answer him.

They lay quietly for a time, listening to the sound of each other's breathing. Bella was loath to disturb their peaceful quietude but as time ticked by, the questions resurfaced, nagging at her.

"Edward, I need to ask you a few questions," she began.

He reacted by kissing her neck, as if he wanted to distract her. "Ask and I will answer ye, if I can," he mumbled against her skin, the vibrations of his mouth making her shiver.

"I saw my family tree today. You seem to have had ... um ... relationships ... with various members of my family," she voiced, feeling reluctant to point out this feature of his behaviour.

"Aye, tis true. Your family has something that calls me, sings to me. I feel your presence and your need. The women in your family have a special bond with the selkies. We have beautiful children together," he said, in an easy tone. Bella's eyes widened in fright.

"Edward, I'm too young to have a child. Please tell me I am not going to get pregnant," panicked Bella. Did his powers extend to rendering her birth control useless?

"Ye are nae too young; ye are exactly the right age for carrying a bairn," Edward pointed out. She could not tell if he was saying this to tease her or to convince her he was right.

"I'm only twenty-two. I have lots of things to do before becoming a mother. The world has changed a lot, Edward. Women are not chained to the kitchen sink anymore," Bella protested.

"Mmm, do ye have the vote? Are there women running the country?" Edward quizzed her and Bella realised he was pulling her leg.

"You told me once to google something. You are not that far behind the times," Bella admonished him.

"No, tis true. I am actually up to date on the state of the world. I'll no gift ye a babe without yer consent," he told her. "Although it would be the bonniest bairn ye ever saw," he added before he went back to kissing her neck.

Bella sighed and tried to move on to the next question she needed to ask.

"Where were you last night? Why did you not come to me?" She was suddenly aware of sounding horrendously needy, but Edward did not seem to pay any heed to that.

"I'm sorry. Something unexpected ... detained me," he whispered. "I'm here now."

"Something to do with the finfolk?" blurted out Bella impulsively.

"The finfolk?" repeated Edward. "Have ye been googling stuff, Bella?" He turned his attention from her neck to her stomach, kissing it lightly all over.

"Stop trying to distract me, Edward. Answer me this. Are there finmen around here? Are they responsible for the disappearance of Charles and Emilio and Rose?"

Edward drew himself up level with Bella's face. His body lay flush with hers and she could feel the heat from him soothe her body. "No, ye di'na need to worry about the finfolk. They are just a tale the islanders like to tell."

"Just like the tale about the selkies?" retorted Bella.

"Perhaps there were finmen long ago. They have moved on and ye di'na need to fear them," he reassured her. He bent his head and kissed her deeply, letting his tongue explore her mouth in tiny sensual movements that made her head spin with the exquisite slowness of it.

"Just di'na stand on the beach when the moon is waning," he told her as they broke their kiss and stared at each other.

Bella had no idea if he was teasing her again.

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A/N

You may be interested to know that according to the folklore there really was special connection between the women of one particular family and the selkies.

Do you think Edward is teasing? I would love to hear what you think.

Thanks for reading!


	14. The Tide is Full, the Moon Lies Fair

**Thank you to dellaterra and HoochieMomma for beta and pre-reading duties. Remaining mistakes are mine.**

**A note about this chapter ~ this is not a long chapter and my plan was to post two chapters this week. However my computer had to go away to be repaired for nine long days. Yes it was horrible. I am going on holiday tomorrow so the next chapter will be next weekend. Most people will not have had a review reply from me, due to no Internet access, but please know that I appreciate all my readers and reviewers.**

**I was thrilled that The Selkie Man was featured this week on The Fictionators ~ link on my profile. Thank you ltlerthqak!**

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Mike was right on time. The small red car swung up to Bella's front door and Bella was pleased to see Mike looking relaxed and friendly. They chatted about their visit to Esme the day before and Mike asked about Bella's day. Bella did not mention Edward to him, or how they had spent the day in bed, with Bella fitting in some writing before Edward took his leave, promising to come back to her later that night. Mike's good mood undoubtedly would evaporate if he knew about the mysterious presence of this prince-like stranger in her life.

Alice and Jessica were waiting for them at a table in the pub. After they had collected a drink from the bar, they crossed the room to join them.

"No James?" asked Mike, once they had greeted each other. "Not like him to miss a pub gathering."

Bella saw a swift look pass between Alice and Jessica, and knew that Jessica had been warned about recent events. She felt Alice's hand squeezing her knee reassuringly as Alice said, "Mike, James is being held at the police station."

Mike froze with his glass halfway to his lips and stared at Alice, blinking once or twice in confusion. "Why? What did he do?"

Bella felt her heart starting to race and squirmed in her seat a little. She knew it was better that Mike found out now, and from them, than from one of the islanders intent on sharing some gossip, but it was still execrably unpleasant to have to sit and listen to Alice give Mike a rough outline of what happened.

He placed his glass on the table and drew in his breath. Then he turned to Bella, his face pale. "I'm so sorry, Bella. I can't take this in."

Bella reached across and touched him on the arm. "It's okay. I'm fine, really."

"But I should have driven you home that evening!" Mike remonstrated. "I shouldn't have given him that chance to ... to ..." His voice faltered, and his face took on a guilty expression, as if he were the one who had attacked her.

"No one could have predicted what happened that evening," Bella told him. "And I'm fine, really. Edward appeared at the right moment..." Her words dried up and she felt Mike's eyes settle on her in a stare. Jessica seemed to perk up a little in her seat and Alice had a bemused smile on her lips and one eyebrow arched at Bella's revelation.

"Edward? Who's he? I want to know everything!" urged Jessica, in a voice that suggested that she was going to wring every bit of truth out of Bella's story and take no prisoners.

Bella clutched at her glass and smiled wanly at Jessica's enthusiasm. Mike was frowning so deeply that his eyebrows seemed to knit themselves together into one. Bella took a big breath and tried to sound lighthearted as she explained that Edward was a friend, someone who came to visit her from one of the remote islands in the distance.

"The extreme swimmer? I knew I had heard you mention him before," volunteered Mike, and Bella nodded. They were both remembering that Mike had advised her to lock the door to make sure Edward stayed outside. As it turned out Edward had been her protector, not her attacker.

"Extreme swimmer? Oh my! I bet he is really muscly!" Jessica was fizzing with excitement about this mystery friend and it took a few more minutes until Bella could downplay the whole topic enough for the conversation to move on to something else. Mike looked as if he wanted to object to Edward's pattern of visiting, but considering his timely intervention that night, there was nothing he could say.

Other subjects cropped up, including Mike's retelling of their visit to Esme's home and his unexpected shopping trip. Bella couldn't help but smile at the thought of Mike's pride in his good deed for the day, while remaining unaware of the fact that Esme had manipulated him to get him out of the way, her fridge fully stocked with everything she needed.

Jessica suddenly dived into her handbag and pulled out a piece of paper. "Bella," she said excitedly. "Your folk tale research ... I have the perfect person for you."

"Oh really?" said Bella, intrigued.

"Donald Carlisle. He's the local expert on these matters. You should go and see him. I spoke to him yesterday when he phoned about a book he had ordered. He lives on Rousay, the island just north of here. It's easy to get there."

"I'll drive you," volunteered Alice. "We can take the ferry from Tingwall and make a day of it."

"You really should see him, Bella. He can answer any question you could possibly have," enthused Jessica. At this assertion, Bella shot Alice a sidelong look. In turn, Alice winked at her, too quickly for anyone else to notice.

"Should I just call him? Won't he be very busy?" asked Bella.

"He's expecting you tomorrow at eleven o'clock," announced Alice. "Jessica told me about her suggestion and I took the liberty of phoning him on your behalf. He's looking forward to meeting you."

Bella laughed and shook her head at Alice's organisational prowess but she was filled with certainty that speaking to someone like Donald could be the key she had been searching for.

Bella wondered how honest she could be with a folklore expert before he declared her insane and had her committed to the psychiatric floor of the local hospital. On the other hand, there was a good chance he would be open-minded and receptive to what Bella had to say about the selkies and finfolk. If there was one thing she understood about these tales, it was that even if people did not believe in them, there was always respect for them. And she needed more information, ideally from an impartial source. It wasn't that she did not trust Edward's answers, but the trained researcher in her knew she should gather as much evidence as possible, even if it wasn't what she wanted to hear.

The group passed the evening sociably and Mike drove her home without incident. As always, she was glad to be home; being too far from the cottage was a bit like being a knotless thread, spinning in a directionless twirl. The cottage meant Edward, and Edward meant sanctuary.

The evening was settling into a dusky glow when she arrived home and Bella felt the twitch of anticipation that she recognised as her desire and impatience for Edward. On the spur of the moment she grabbed an extra sweater and headed for the path to the beach. It was steep and winding but Bella had used it a number of times and she did not once stumble or slide. The sea was even more powerful and mighty looking with the light fading and the sound of the waves rolling onto the shore. Bella stood and listened, and tried to work out if the sea was speaking to her, telling her something. But there seemed to be only the relentless breaking waves, moving in and out in their own pattern. If the sea was trying to tell her something, Bella was not understanding it.

Bella found a large, smooth rock to sit on. She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. She had no idea what time Edward would come, but she promised herself to wait for twenty minutes. She ignored the small kernel of doubt in her mind whispering to her that perhaps Edward would not want her waiting on the beach for him. For if he truly was a selkie, he would arrive as a seal, shed his skin on the beach, and transform himself into his human form. She felt torn between wanting to see this phenomenon with her own eyes and feeling that she was somehow invading his privacy and betraying his trust by watching without his permission.

But as the time ticked on, Bella realised she should head up the path and into the warmth and light of her croft. It had been a fruitless mission, and an ill-advised one, to spy on him in this way, and she was a little relieved that she had been unsuccessful. Stretching her legs, she stood and began to climb the steep track back to the top of the cliff. It didn't take long, but about halfway up she paused and turned to look back over the expanse of the sea, awed by its never-ending movement and power.

If Bella hadn't done this, had not cast her eyes carefully over the sea, she never would have seen the small craft making its way to the shore. It was a small rowing boat – the type a fisherman might have used – and it drove a straight course. But the occupant was not rowing; he was standing stock still in the boat, looking toward the shore. There was no sail on the boat, and yet it made its way with constant speed and certainty toward the beach. Bella focused carefully on the person standing in the boat and then found herself crouching low down on the sandy path, hidden behind the marram grass.

Undeniably she had just seen the figure of Edward standing on that boat.

Instinctively she had ducked down, hiding herself from view. She lay down on the sandy path, breathing hard and fast as she tried to process what she was seeing. Then, inching her torso up until she could see him again, she watched him, straining her eyes in the evening light, checking and rechecking the boat occupant's identity.

Edward was on that boat, not swimming in the sea. Bella's mind was struggling to understand what she was seeing. There was no framework in her comprehension of Edward's supernatural existence to explain why he was standing in a boat and not swimming through the ocean in animal form. She had to laugh at the strange turn of her thinking. Before her arrival here, the exact opposite would have been true. For surely seeing a man in a boat made more rational sense than expecting a seal to transform itself into a man.

He made no movements, no attempts to steer or power the boat; he just stayed as stationary as a statue. Then when the small boat was about three hundred metres from the shore, it came to a stop. Edward stepped up to the prow of the vessel and dived into the water. With easy, powerful strokes he began swimming to the beach.

Bella realised with horror that he would soon reach the sandy line of the shore and climb the path to her croft. If she did not move immediately, he would discover her crouching there, spying on him, and discovering his secrets and his lies. Satisfied that he was still moving through the water, she made herself unfurl her body and run up to the top of the cliff. Panting with the effort of the uphill climb, she reached her front door and let herself in.

She could not face him straight away; she needed to buy herself some time to think. Shoving the plug into the bath, she turned the taps on full blast, throwing in a generous measure of bath foam in her haste. She ran to collect a towel and, on impulse, a bottle of wine and a glass from the kitchen. She locked herself in the bathroom and stripped off her clothes. She had just lowered herself into the water when she heard Edward knock and enter the house.

"Bella," he called to her. "Are ye here?"

"In the bathroom," she answered. "I'll be out in a wee while. I'm doing women's stuff, you know."

She heard Edward chuckle and move into the living room. Opening the wine, she filled her glass and gulped it down in large sips, all the time wondering why Edward had been lying to her.

He had travelled by boat. Not by swimming through the freezing water all the way from a distant island. And certainly not as a seal.

She was a fool to have ever believed his stories. His lies. She should turn him out of her house right now, she thought miserably as she stared at her toes through the bubbles of the bath foam and swallowed the wine in fast, furious gulps. Only an hour ago she thought Edward was her safetly net, her sanctuary. Now she wasn't sure what, or who, he was.

As Bella hid in the bathroom with her bottle of wine, she smelled the distinct aroma of the peat fire being lit in her bedroom. The wine was going down fast and she had drunk almost the entire bottle by the time she realised she was going to have to leave the bathroom and face Edward. Bella had never been a big drinker and the effects of drinking quickly, on top of the drinks she had had with her friends meant that she was not so steady on her feet by the time she lurched out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. The room was wonderfully warm with the fire and Edward had turned off the lights so the flames bathed the room in a charming orange glow. Shadows danced and flickered on the walls and Bella thought about how romantic it would be if it weren't for the ball of anxiety and anger in her stomach.

She stumbled a little as she crossed to the bed, where Edward lay, his hands behind his head and his long legs stretched out. His hair was dripping wet and he had removed his trousers so he was lying there naked, waiting for her. She reached the end of the bed and stopped, letting her eyes roam over him, from head to toe. When her eyes reached his face, with his green eyes returning her stare, and his perfect mouth set in the lopsided smile that never failed to make her tingle all over, she felt her resolve to be mad at him weaken. She shifted her weight from foot to foot as if she were trying to shake her body into some sort of sense and attempted to focus on keeping her anger burning bright in her mind. But the wine was making her fatigued and was uncoiling the tight twist of shock and fury in her head. Bella was beginning to hear her internal voice telling her that it was her own fault for believing his selkie story in the first place. Letting herself believe in his fanciful tale was only a mark of how gullible she was. No, the person she should be angry with was herself. She was the naive tourist, letting herself be fooled by his story, his practical joke ... whatever this was to him.

Was he a selkie or a man? All she knew at this moment was that he was flesh and blood, heat and desire. And she was in front of him, knowing she was powerless to resist his charms, the bewitchment he had over her.

Emboldened by the conclusion she had come to and feeling the aftermath of a crisis pass through her veins she suddenly let the towel drop to the floor, and watched Edward's face as his eyes sparkled with amber flecks, accentuated by the fire's flames. He rolled himself on his side and stretched out his hand, taking her small one in his large one. He tugged her to him, and silently she climbed on the bed beside him. She joined her lips to his and let him devour her in a kiss, tasting the sea salt on his lips and pushing her hands into his hair, dragging her nails along his scalp. He moaned and pulled her to him in a move which spoke of possession and need.

As Edward brushed his fingers over her collarbone, her breasts, her hips, her skin came alive with energy, flushed with an excitement so intense it almost made her ache. His eyes never left her, drinking in every detail as he watched her body tremble. She felt her heart race and pound as she reacted to the power of his touch, the way he commanded her body and its responses. He rolled her on top of him and she gasped at the new sensation of his smooth, hard body beneath hers. He kissed her more and kissed her deeply until her senses reeled in delight. As she pulled herself up over him, she looked straight into his eyes, the firelight making them magical, entrancing.

_Who is he? s_he wondered almost absentmindedly, her clarity of thought muddled by her intoxication, firstly from the wine and secondly from his touch. There were difficult questions to be asked and hard truths to be learned. But as she felt herself pushed and pulled toward the pleasure he was promising her with every stroke of his fingers and sweep of his tongue, her last thought was _no questions now, tomorrow ... tomorrow._

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A/N Chapter title comes from a poem called Dover Beach by Matthew Arnold.

I know readers have a lot of questions and they are not answered in each chapter but hang in there! Thanks for reading.


	15. The Treasury of Our Ancestors

**Thank you to dellaterra for beta reading this several times over. Thank you to HoochieMomma for pre-reading this super fast. Remaining mistakes are mine.**

**AMusefan77 has started a thread for this story at Twilighted ~ thank you! You can find it at Twilighted (dot) net, Forums, Fanfiction, Alternate Universe - Human. I'll try to put a link on my profile too. **

**I am a bit behind on review replies but I will try to get to everyone. I do appreciate them all!**

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When morning arrived, bringing sunlight streaming in through the thin bedroom curtains, Bella struggled to open her eyes and pull herself upright. She only managed it because Edward was sitting on the bed, a cup of tea waiting for her on the bedside cabinet. His steady gaze met her eyes that were painfully adjusting from darkness to splintering brightness.

"Bella, how is yer head this morn?" Edward asked her, in a tone that told her he knew exactly how unpleasant she felt at that moment.

"Ugh, what time is it?" muttered Bella, feeling sure that her head had shrunk and was now a size too small for her brain.

"Early. I hae to go now. I'll be back tonight," Edward said softly. "What are ye doing today?"

For some unknown reason, she did not tell him about her appointment with Donald Carlisle. She found herself mentioning writing and laundry without ever alluding to her appointment with the folk tale expert. He nodded at her answer, kissed her tenderly and let himself out. She remained in bed a while longer, nursing her hangover and wondering why she hadn't told Edward about this opportunity to learn more about what he had told her. Perhaps more importantly, this was a chance to find out what he was concealing from her.

Alice arrived an hour later and they quickly climbed into her silver car for their journey to Tingwall. The roll-on, roll-off ferry left from the small harbour and carried them to Rousay, Orkney's fifth-largest island. Bella said nothing to her companion about what she had seen the night before. She guarded this secret deep inside her, contemplating the memory of it but reaching no conclusions.

The isle of Rousay featured the same landscape characteristics as the parts of Orkney Bella had already encountered. No trees were to be seen and the land had a sense of wildness, the endless rugged terrain stretching out beyond the circular road that ran around the island. As they travelled west, Bella admired the dramatic cliffs and the views out over the Atlantic. Alice informed her that the island was well known for its seabirds and seal colonies, which was why it was a favourite destination for tourists. Both girls smiled wryly at this.

A short while later, they arrived at Donald's house. He turned out to be a soft-spoken man in his late sixties, with silver hair swept back off his face. He welcomed them in and settled them down with coffee and shortbread before they started.

"So, Bella, you are researching some of the folk stories of the islands?" Donald began. His interest was apparent in the bright sparkle in his eyes.

"Yes, I'm here on a travel scholarship and part of my study is to find out about traditional folk tales of the islands and compare them to ones found in North America," she explained.

"Well, no shortage of material here for you," he remarked, and they both smiled. "Which stories are of particular interest to you?"

"The selkies," volunteered Alice, already breaking her promise to be quiet and let Bella ask her own questions.

"And the finfolk," added Bella.

"Mmm, yes, a good place to start," responded Donald. "For if you read some theories, these two are essentially one and the same."

Bella felt her mouth drop open and her eyes widen in shock.

"Pardon?" she blurted out abruptly. She knew she had heard his words correctly, but her flabbergasted brain was struggling to understand them.

"Oh, yes. These days the selkies are portrayed as benign, gentle beings who mean humans no harm, unless they interfere with the seal pups. In fact, many an Orkney woman has claimed to be in love with a handsome selkie man and to have borne him beautiful children, albeit with a small webbed joining between the fingers, a telltale sign of their parentage. The finmen, however, are known as dark and evil denizens of an underwater kingdom. They are famed for their powers, but they use their powers for ill. Both are shape-shifters; both come from the sea. There is a lot to be said for the theory that selkies and finmen are indeed the same creatures."

Bella was rendered speechless. She was horribly staggered by the proposition that Edward was actually one of the finmen, the very beings she had suspected of abducting those lost souls, Charles, Emilio and Rose.

"The finmen are renowned for their great power over the sea. It is said they can create and control storms. Of course, Orkney folk always have preferred to attribute their lost boats and missing fishermen to the finmen rather than to human error. Nevertheless, it is said that the finmen have such powers that they can steer a vessel without sails or oars, simply by guiding it with their own minds." He paused. "Bella, my dear, are you alright? You are very pale."

Bella fought to pull more oxygen into her lungs. She was drowning in her own desire to erase the indelible image from last night of Edward in that swiftly moving boat. The rushing of blood in her ears mingled with her memory of the sound of the ocean pushing and pulling while she had watched Edward standing in that boat as it made its way to the beach.

"They are reputed to have magical powers that make their vessels invisible. All the better to sneak up on unsuspecting fishermen, I suppose," offered Donald as he paused to sip his tea.

Bella was still not speaking, lost in confused thoughts and frightening new theories. Alice shifted slightly in her seat, glancing nervously at her, but Bella was staring straight ahead. "Where do they live?" she asked, wanting Bella to wake up and rejoin in the conversation.

"They are said to reside in winter in their palatial kingdom under the sea, Finfolkaheem. Legend has it that in ancient times they spent their summers on a small island, the Hidden Isle, also known as Hildaland. It was thought to be hidden from the islanders, protected by a thick, heavy fog. But long ago it was freed from the finmen's possession by a farmer bent on revenge for the kidnapping of his wife, and nowadays it is known as Eynhallow. You will have passed it on your way here."

"Bella," said Alice with an edge in her voice. "You can see Eynhallow from your house."

Bella turned to stare at Alice with wide, glassy eyes. Still she could not speak. She had lain with Edward, a malevolent finman. She was falling in love with him. She thought she could trust him, the Edward who protected her and made her feel safe.

Alice posed another question. "What about the finwives?"

"Oh, very interesting creatures," exclaimed Donald. "Thought to start their lives as beautiful mermaids who possess the ability to charm sailors and fishermen with their hypnotic singing. But they grow ugly if they do not find a human man to marry. The finfolk love and crave silver, so a finman might send his finwife to live ashore and become part of a community. She would be able to cure diseases and the villagers would pay her in silver. She would send it back to him, and if she did not send enough, the finman would come ashore and beat her so fiercely she would have to stay abed for sixty days."

"Lovely," muttered Alice.

"The finwife would have a black cat that transformed into a fish, and this fish would take messages between the two," Donald added.

_Enough!_ screamed Bella's thoughts. Cats that transform into fish. Seals that transform into men. Mermaids and finmen with enough power to manipulate the sea. _None of this is real,_ rebelled Bella's rational thoughts. All this fantasy was tormenting her, becoming torturous. Her brain snapped like an overstretched elastic band, breaching the limits of what she could comprehend.

"Is there anything the finfolk are afraid of?" asked Alice, trying to continue to gather information on Bella's behalf.

"The Christian cross. They abhor it. On Eynhallow, once it was won back from the finfolk, the people built a church to sanctify the island and protect it from them returning. It is a ruin now. You can go to the island to visit it," he said. "And salt. Traditionally salt wards off evil."

Bella tried to remember if she had ever seen Edward eat anything with salt. She realised she had never seen Edward eat anything at all.

"But they love silver. They hoard it, revere it. They call it white metal," Donald was saying, as Bella tried to pull herself out of her thoughts. "There is a story of a finman who hired a ferry man to row him to the Hidden Isle, and paid him with a bag of coppers, for he could not bear to part with his silver coins. Unfortunately, the finman blinded the boatman a year later when he recognised him."

Donald stood and pulled a book off a shelf and handed it to Bella. "Take this. It has a large collection of stories that may interest you. George Mackay Brown is one of Orkney's most famous writers. A fabulous storyteller."

Bella took the book and laid it in her lap. Clearing her throat, she tried to find her voice again. "Do the finmen take people? I mean, do they abduct them?"

"Oh yes, there are numerous tales of the finmen spiriting away captives. Typically, the female captives would be made to bear the finmen's children. And of course, the finwives desire a human husband. If they are forced to marry one of their own kind, they are condemned to lose their beauty and grow uglier and uglier."

Bella grimaced and nodded. She turned the book over in her hands. Suddenly, she felt exhausted. She was worn out from hearing and thinking about the ways of the finfolk. She did not see in Edward the malice that was mentioned so often. Was that because he was using his powers to charm and delude her? Was he working to lull her into trusting him implicitly before...

Before what? She dared not even contemplate that question.

"But of course, the finfolk are not the only ones who steal humans," Donald announced.

"What?" chorused Bella and Alice together.

"Oh no. Let me tell you about the trows," said Donald Carlisle, enjoying himself immensely and altogether oblivious to Bella and Alice's horrified expressions.

Donald Carlisle loved company, even more so when the topic of conversation was the myths and legends of the Orkney Isles. To have two young women sitting with him, listening intently to his every word was enough to put him in his element. He had lived alone for a number of years and entertaining others in this way was a novelty. He enjoyed his frequent speaking engagements at the Women's Guild, but the average age of the membership was seventy. Having two beautiful young women hang on his every word was enough to perk him up and set his blood racing.

"The sea trows are regarded as rather foolish creatures who attempt to play tricks on people. But being rather inept, their tricks usually backfire on them and leave them worse off. Their counterparts, the hill trows, are more clever and sinister. They live in earthern mound dwellings and are small in stature with large, ugly features on their faces."

"Wait a minute. Are they the same as the peedie folk?" interrupted Bella.

"Well, yes and no. Yes, in that the stories you have heard about the peedie folk are in fact about the hill trows. But over the years, the stories about them have become rather sanitised. The islanders like to think of the peedie folk as a little bit troublesome but generally no threat. Unfortunately, that notion is ill informed. They are fond of stealing away captives, just as much as the finfolk. They are particularly interested in pregnant women and their midwives for they find it very hard to have their own offspring. So they steal a pregnant girl and her midwife to deliver the baby and nurse it. Or they steal a baby and swap it for their own sickly one, a changeling."

Bella recalled Mike's playful tone when he had joked about the peedie folk stealing her away to their underground lair and shivered in spite of the room's warmth.

"They were fond of taking brides too. And grooms-to-be, in fact. Although the reason for that has never been clear to me," Donald pondered aloud.

Bella felt her back stiffen and straighten. Charles had been near enough a groom when he had disappeared.

She glanced over at Alice, who looked confused and disconcerted by the information they were receiving. Every new detail seemed to raise more questions than it answered.

Donald talked some more, mentioning a few of things Mike had spoken of, such as their love of music, and gave Bella the titles of some stories that would further her understanding of Orkney folk tales. Soon it was time for them to depart. As they rose and thanked him, he felt satisfied that he had imparted some of his extensive knowledge to an appreciative audience. Nonetheless, as he stood at his front door waving them off, he was reluctant to see them leave.

Neither of the girls talked much as they set off. Alice drove the car in the rally car race fashion Bella had come to expect, and Bella stared out the window, lost in the inner world of thought Alice had come to expect. Bella didn't even notice at first that Alice was taking a detour rather than heading straight back to the ferry.

"Might as well show you the sights while we are here," she explained as she parked the car. They were at Midhowe Chambered Cairn, an ancient burial site where the bones of twenty-five people had been found, along with the skeletons of myriad animals, birds and fish. The site was covered by a hangar-style building to protect it, and an elevated walkway inside allowed visitors to gaze down into the passageway and stone compartments.

Bella stood looking down into the stalls where thousands of years ago the dead were laid to rest. She thought about her dead ancestors, the ones who had lived on Orkney all their days, shielding their faces from the wind and the salt spray of the sea, turning the fertile soil season after season, raising their children and telling their stories by the light of the peat fire. Did they know the truth? Had it been lost over the years, mixed and muddled, distilled into good and evil, selkies and finmen?

"What are you thinking, Bella?" asked Alice, as they made their way back to the car.

Bella tried to pull herself out of her reverie. She had reached a new conclusion that Edward was neither a normal man nor a selkie. He was a creature to be dreaded and feared. He was a being who used his ability to control the elements in order to commit crimes against unsuspecting land-dwelling citizens.

And now the finmen had competition in their dastardly deeds. The hill trows, more poisonous and plotting that she had thought, were thieves of babies, young women and men.

"Alice, can you drop me off and I'll catch the bus to Kirkwall? I'm going to send a few emails," responded Bella. She was seized by a sudden idea and an urgency to take care of it straightaway.

"Yes," replied Alice, no longer having any clue as to what was going on in Bella's head. They rode the rest of the way to Tingwall in silence, and soon after they said good-bye, Bella found herself sitting on a small bus to the mainland's capital, working out the next step in her plan to discover the truth.

As the bus rattled toward Kirkwall, she reasoned that the truth might be something as simple as Edward being an ordinary mortal, just as she was. His story might be his idea of a joke, for his own amusement. Or perhaps he was suffering from some delusional disorder and he was convinced by his own tall tale. Realistically, if she put her scientific head on her shoulders, it was most likely that she had spent the last few days puzzling over something that was very simple. Edward was a man. Not a selkie and not a finman. Just a man who had the power to swim in freezing water, control boats without sails, and hypnotise her to sleep. And there was still the small matter of how he kept appearing in photographs and portraits across a timespan of over a hundred years. Whichever way she tried to puzzle it out in her head, there were always unanswered questions left over.

Bella found her usual table in the records department of the library. Jessica wanted to chat, but Bella had difficulty keeping her interest on gossip and inconsequential talk. Jessica seemed to take the hint, found what Bella asked for and then left her alone.

Bella wanted the newspaper reports from 1942 on the disappearance of Emilio Maccarti. She needed to know something that was mentioned neither in the information at the painted chapel nor in the island's museum. It did not take Bella long to find the articles she needed and she quickly began to scan them. She ran her eyes over the small dark, slightly smudged typeface on the newsprint until... Bingo! Her eyes found the paragraph she had been looking for.

_Emilio Maccarti had been living as a Prisoner of War on the island since 1940, but this did not prevent him from becoming part of island life. He was very settled here and had recently become engaged to a local girl, Margaret McTavish._

Engaged. He was going to be a groom, just like Charles. Two out of three.

That just left Rose.

She needed to speak to Mike.

Mike's office was not far from the library, according to Jessica's directions. When she entered the building, Bella asked the girl at reception to phone up to Mike's office and she took a seat in the waiting area. Mike appeared five minutes later, looking pleased about Bella's surprise visit.

Bella persuaded him to leave the office and dragged him into a nearby pub. He protested a little, but Bella was not in the frame of mind to be turned down. Undoubtedly he was curious as to why she was so desperate to see him privately. The pub was dark, and not particularly inviting, but Bella ignored the stares from the few men standing at the bar and led Mike to a small table tucked away in a corner where they would not be overheard.

Mike sipped his coke and gazed at Bella with an expectant look as he waited for her to speak. She suddenly felt cold and clammy about the subject she wanted to broach with him, and how he would react.

"Mike, I have to ask you a few questions... of a personal nature..." she stammered, her voice trailing off into a whisper. He raised one eyebrow and Bella had a horrible flashback to the conversation they had had while standing outside the village hall on the night of the céilidh.

"It concerns Rose," she managed to utter, before falling silent again. Mike's face cleared itself of emotion, the way a child erases the picture on his Etch A Sketch toy when he wants to start again. Then he stared at Bella and she could see confusion and mistrust cloud his eyes.

"Rose? You want to talk about Rose?" he asked eventually. "You never knew Rose," he added suspiciously.

"I know. I'm sorry to ask you these questions. If there were another way... But I can't see one." She paused. "It's really important, but I can't even tell you why... Oh god, this isn't making much sense." Bella sipped her drink to buy herself some time before she continued.

She drew in a deep breath. "Were you and Rose engaged when she disappeared?" she rushed out in one breath.

"What? No. No, we were not engaged, and frankly it is none of your business, Bella. What right have you to dig up my past like this? You have only been here for..."

Bella's whirling mind drowned out his speech about how annoyed he was with her for asking these questions.

"_They are particularly interested in pregnant women..."_ Donald's voice came back to her.

"Mike," she interrupted him. "Was Rose pregnant when she disappeared?"

* * *

**A/N** The chapter title comes from a quote by George Mackay Brown, " We cannot live fully without the treasury our ancestors have left to us." He really is a wonderful storyteller. His collection of stories called _The Two Fiddlers_ is a great place to start and contains his version of the Helen Waters story that inspired the first chapter of The Selkie Man.

A story about my holiday that you can totally skip. So we went to a castle and the nice castle steward offered to show us the dungeon. It was an underground room with only one small hole at one side. This hole would have let the tide in twice a day to flush the room out and soak the immates with freezing sea water, up to their waists. Nice. And the steward's name ... James!

Anyway, thank you for reading and I always appreciate hearing your thoughts.


	16. Eynhallow

**Thank you to dellaterra and HoochieMomma for giving me and The Selkie Man their time.**

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Mike's expression was one of shock. He blinked and stared. He looked as if Bella had thrown a bucket of cold water over him. Then, after an uncomfortable amount of silent staring, he shifted his gaze to the small window above Bella's head. For a horrible moment she thought he was going to start crying.

"How did you know?" he asked in a ragged voice.

"I didn't. It was a hunch," offered Bella in a small voice, reaching out and touching his arm in a gesture of support.

He sighed and shook his head, as if he were trying to shake off a bad memory. Bella waited for him to speak and tried not to chew her lip.

"She was about eighteen weeks pregnant, but only she and I knew about it. She wasn't really showing. I told her I would stick by her, told her we could get married and be a family. She said she was too young to be a mother and a wife. But I had no idea she would do something so drastic as drown herself," he told Bella in a calm, flat tone, the one someone might use when they are retelling something they have rehearsed in their head a million times but never had the chance to tell anyone.

"I should have gotten help for her. I just didn't know she was feeling so desperate about the baby. It's all my fault," he said plaintively.

"No, Mike! It is not your fault. You have nothing to reproach yourself for. It was an accident, everyone understands that."

Mike stared intently at Bella. His face was a myriad of emotions, a mixture of relief, curiosity and ... pity. Yes, he pitied her for her simple evaluation of the tragedy. If she was going to offer only a colour-by-numbers assessment of the single biggest life-changing event of his existence, then he really did pity her. He scoffed lightly and sipped his drink once more.

"Thanks for the drink and the chat," he said scornfully. "It's been great, but now I have to get back to work. Houses to plan. Can't sit around here all day reminiscing about my dead girlfriend and the baby I never got to meet."

Bella stared at her hands as they twisted around her glass, hating herself for asking him these questions. She felt a crimson heat creep into her cheeks as she wondered how she could possibly have thought it was okay to march Mike in here and dissect his past with him. This was not her. It was not her usual manner to put people on the spot about the most painful episodes of their lives, all on some idiotic whim about finmen and hill trows. She wondered briefly if there was something in the water in Orkney that was making her slightly crazy.

After an awkward farewell with Mike, Bella found herself back on the bus that would take her home to the small stone cottage. As it trundled along, she opened the book Donald Carlisle had given her. As she read, her mind was able to formulate the questions that most urgently needed answering. Was Edward a finman, and did she need to fear him? Secondly, did he know something about the disappearances she had been fixating on? She glanced at her watch and was frustrated to realise that it would be hours before she could expect him. She tried to focus on the stories, but she couldn't suspend her disbelief and immerse herself in them, now that she had reason to believe they were more than fictional.

Time dragged. Food and television distracted her only for short, intermittent periods. Eventually, she tenatively laid her first peat fire in the bedroom and lit it. To her surprise, the fire flickered into life and did not extinguish itself. Soon the room was filled with the heat, the peat's scent and a warming orange glow from the flames.

She fell asleep, intending to close her eyes for only a moment. But sheer exhaustion overtook her and she drifted into a tormented sleep, where strange creatures pursued her and laughed maniacally as she ran to escape them. When she felt someone shake her gently on the arm, she almost woke up screaming, jolted from her nightmare world into the reality of her strange new life on this island of tales and hidden threats.

"Bella, shh, tis me," said Edward soothingly. He climbed onto the bed beside her, lying next to her and brushing her hair from her face. "I see ye hae lit the fire and left the door unlocked. That'll attract the peedie folk for sure."

"What?" exclaimed Bella, fright running through her veins.

"Relax, it's a joke. The peedie folk can make their own fires now," said Edward, a smile playing on his lips.

"What?" repeated Bella. "What do you mean?"

"Bella, ye are not making any sense. What has gotten into ye?" asked Edward, bemused by Bella's overreaction. "I mean, the peedie folk were known for sneaking into people's houses to sit by the dying embers of the fire. Many a farmer and his wife lay shaking in their beds while they listened to the peedie folk moving about in the other room of their house."

Bella shivered in spite of being warm. "How do you get rid of them?"

"Ye don't; they're stubborn little folk. They're always gone by morn though. They don't come out in daylight."

"Great," intoned Bella grimly. "What did you mean, they can make their own fires now?"

Edward cocked an eyebrow at her. "Ye are taking this very seriously for something said in jest."

"I'm just interested," she replied, shrugging her shoulders. "Something I read today made me think that they are not the harmless little elves that modern belief tells us they are."

"What do ye mean?" asked Edward, his tone growing more serious as he gazed into Bella's brown eyes. Bella tried hard to resist the intense stare he gave her, tried to stay focused on her fact-finding task.

"I heard that they like to take people. Babies. Pregnant women. Brides and grooms. It doesn't really fit with the idea of harmless pixies, does it?"

"To be fair, I don't think anyone ever said they were harmless. People choose to believe what suits them best though. It is human nature. Over the years, some of the facts get lost or changed or covered up and ye end up with a diluted version of the truth."

"Tell me everything you know about the hill trows," Bella stated flatly, demanding rather than requesting.

"Hill trows? I've no heard them called that in a many a year," said Edward. "Why do ye want to ken about them?" he asked her, letting his fingers stroke the back of her neck. Bella let her head roll like a cat having its fur rubbed.

"My research paper," she told him. Bella desperately wanted him to reassure her, and she was not yet ready to confront him. What she needed more than anything was answers. His answers.

"The hill trows live in earthern mounds. Inside these trowies are magnificent halls, filled with grand furnishings and fine woven cloths, and at their table only the finest food and drink are served. They only come out at night, when their love of music draws them together for dancing. They are rarely seen by humans though, and if you anger them, expect to have a curse put on you. Or be taken as their prisoner." Edward finished and looked at her.

"But why would they want humans?"

"Sometimes they want a healthy child. Their own offspring are often sickly and fail to thrive. So they steal a human baby."

"What about brides and grooms? Why do they take them?"

"It's not clear, but there is one theory," Edward paused and Bella found that she was holding her breath. "Perhaps they are such meddlesome blighters that they are attracted to people at the happiest time of their lives, the time when they feel most loved, most hopeful about the future."

It made some sort of sense. If the hill trows had a perverse sense of entitlement to ruin the lives of others, why not ruin it at the happiest time?

"Has anyone ever escaped from the hill trows?" asked Bella.

"Well, they do not easily give up their human treasure."

"But how do they keep them trapped?"

"Magic. They have a power over time, for one thing. An hour with them is a year in our world. So a night playing the fiddle for them is a ten-year absence from life on earth."

Bella remembered the story of the fiddler enticed into the peedie folks' lair and asked to play for them. When he was released a day later, a quarter of a century had passed. Bella felt her heart speed up when she thought about Rose, missing for three years. Perhaps she was in some parallel universe, thinking she had been away for only a few hours.

Lost in thought, Bella realised that Edward was kissing her neck and his hands were roaming all over her skin. She let thoughts about how she should tell him to go flit through her mind and she said nothing. He was here, and he was reigniting the fire that her body craved from him. To tell him to leave suddenly seemed like an insurmountable task. Casting aside her unasked questions, she slid under him and heard him moan in appreciation. Soon she was lost in the heat of his body, the salt tang on his skin and the power of his touch.

In the morning, she woke to find Edward smiling at her, a cup of tea waiting for her beside the bed.

"What are ye doing today?" he inquired as she propped herself up and sipped her tea.

"Edward, will you take me to Eynhallow?" she asked and watched the smile drop off his face.

A few hours later, as the boat made its way through the water, Bella wondered what Donald Carlisle would make of her sitting beside a finman on their way to the finfolk's summer home on the Hidden Isle. He undoubtedly would have advised against the plan. It was a little like a meek lamb wandering up to a hungry lion and hoping not to get eaten.

They were not in the boat Bella had seen Edward use the night she watched him arrive without oars or sails. It was a bigger boat with a motor at the back, the noise of which was cutting through the peaceful calmness of the day. Edward had told her he had borrowed it from a friend and she had nodded. She did not mention the other boat nor crack a joke about him swimming easily through the sea in his seal body. The journey would not take long, and Bella was glad of the blue sky and warm summer air. Landing on this mystic isle would not seem so ominous with the sun warming their skin.

Bella watched Edward sit beside the motor, his hand resting on the tiller, steering it with ease. The bright sunlight was highlighting the fiery tones of his hair, which was sticking up in a haphazard style that people back in Seattle would pay a fortune to achieve. As usual, he wore nothing except a pair of trousers, and defined muscles of his chest and arms were on display for her to admire. While his skin was pale, Bella knew that it was soft and warm to the touch. Just thinking about touching him made her sit on her hands to keep them from reaching out and grabbing him. She should have been admiring the view of the land from her new vantage point in the water, but she found it hard to take her eyes off Edward's body. As if he knew what she was thinking, he lifted his eyes from the point he was steering toward and rested them on her, giving her a burning look that told of desire and lust. She gasped and felt a twisting inside her that had her aching with sudden need. Tearing her eyes away, she resolved to rise above the longing her body felt when he looked at her like that and told herself to focus on the approaching land.

When the boat slowed and Edward cut the engine, Bella watched him leap ashore and tie the boat to a mooring post. He stretched out his hand and she slipped hers into his while she jumped from the boat onto land. His eyes never left her face, as if he were reading her expression for something. Now his gaze was intense and his brow furrowed. She wondered if he suspected she had more on her mind than merely wanting to visit this small, deserted island as a curious tourist.

As they walked up the path, Bella surveyed the land around her. Overgrown fields were on either side but the air was silent of birdsong. The path was strewn with green grass and small flowers appeared here and there, scattered in an irregular pattern. The path led up to a ruin of the church and a few other buildings, their use no longer clear.

"How long has the island been uninhabited?" Bella asked, reaching up and feeling the moss growing on the old stone walls.

"Over a hundred and fifty years. There were a few families living here but sickness made them leave. They never came back, so the island has been empty of people ever since."

"And tell me the story of how the finfolk lost it to the islanders." She settled herself on a large stone bench and turned toward him expectantly.

"It was said that the island was the summer home of the finfolk. They lived here in families and grew crops and kept animals. But one of them took a young woman from the parish of Evie and her husband, the Goodman of Thorodale, swore to have his revenge. It is said that he sought out the wise woman of Hoy and learned how to find the island, which was heavily protected by the finmen's charms. He undertook an elaborate ritual of crawling around the Odin Stone during a full moon for nine months, and looking through the hole in it to break the spell that kept the island hidden."

"The Odin Stone?" repeated Bella. "I've never heard of it."

"It was a large standing stone with an oval shaped hole," explained Edward. "It was destroyed some time ago."

Bella nodded and he continued with his tale.

"One day the Goodman looked out over Eynhallow Sound and there was the island in his sight. Without lifting his gaze from it he rode out here with his three sons and baskets of salt. Their perilous journey was threatened by whales and singing mermaids. The farmer threw salt or crosses to vanish these obstacles. On landing, the farmer fought a battle with a monsterous creature who then revealed himself as the finman who had stolen his wife. After ridding him with a cross made of sticky grass that the finman could not pull from his face he bade his sons to walk around the island three times, leaving a salt trail as they went. Thus the island was encircled by nine circles of salt and that was enough to cast the finfolk off. They left immediately, shrieking and wailing, running into the sea. The farmer had his revenge, good and proper." Edward finished telling the story with a sombre look on his face.

"Do you have an objection to salt, Edward?" Bella asked, walking to stand in front of him.

Edward chuckled. "Too much salt is bad for ye."

"But does it have a power over you, like in the story?" Bella asked, feeling the bag of salt she had put in her pocket. She wondered what he would do if she brought it out and threw it at him. Would he disappear like an apparition or run screaming into the sea?

Edward stared at her, uncertainty crossing his face for the briefest of moments.

"What are ye getting at, Bella?" he asked in a low voice.

"I know you are not a selkie, Edward," she announced, her surprisingly strong voice masking the trembling she felt deep down.

It was a strangely euphoric feeling to grandly and boldly make this statement. She felt like she was throwing down the gauntlet and he would have no option but to pick it up and answer to her. Instead, he was looking at her quizzically, as if she had just done something odd and out of character.

"No? What I am then?" he asked quietly.

Bella suddenly felt foolish. She was going to have to see this through, reveal her new theory.

"You're a ... a ...," she gulped and fought an urge to back down and disengage from the whole conversation. His eyes were searching hers and she resisted the temptation to close her eyes so as not to see his, which were regarding her so carefully.

"Yes? I'm a ... ?" He seemed to be encouraging her. She took a breath and decided to say it quickly, to get it over with.

"Finman," she declared and waited for his reaction.

He tipped his head back and laughed. He seemed delighted with her assessment of him. Bella stared at him, confused. Laughter was not the reaction she was expecting. His shoulders seemed to shake with mirth and Bella began to feel annoyance at being left out of the joke. She folded her arms and waited.

He stopped laughing and took her hand into his, bringing it to his lips and kissing it. It reminded her of the way he used to greet her when they first met.

"Well?" she prompted him.

"Yes," he said.

"Pardon? You're agreeing with me? You are a finman?" Bella's voice rose higher and higher with each question she choked out.

"Aye, I am. Finman, selkie - tis one and the same really. Modern-day retellings of the stories hae us as different creatures, when in fact we are the same."

"Why did you tell me you were a selkie then? Why did you not tell me the truth from the start?"

"We are aware that our reputation is unfavourable. Nobody wants to meet finman, but everyone wants to see a selkie. It seemed less complicated to let ye believe the version ye would find easiest to deal with. I didna reckon on yer powers of deduction," he smiled his lopsided smile at her, and she tried to concentrate despite his distraction.

"I saw you. In a boat. Two nights ago, " she told him.

"Ah, the night ye were drinking. That explains a lot," he said.

"But what about your seal skin? I thought selkies became seals in the water," Bella whispered.

"No, we need no seal skin. That story started a long time ago, and people like it, so it persisted. Like many things, our reputation is a poor reflection of our reality."

"But what is your reality? Where do you really live? Are you really ... evil?" Bella could hardly bring herself to say the last word but it was the only way to get the answer she needed.

Edward suddenly pulled her close and pushed a strand of hair off her face. He leaned in and kissed her, the strength of him, the warmth of his body, the taste of him with the sea breeze washing gently over them overwhelming her senses, already heightened by the conversation they were having and the admission he had just made to her.

"Do I seem evil?" he whispered to her as he drew back to look into her eyes.

"No," she replied. "But it could be a trick. You could be tricking me into believing that I have nothing to fear from you."

He shook his head and smiled. "No tricks. Believe me, Bella" And he took her by the hand and led her to a patch of grass where he sat them down.

"I'll tell ye what ye need to know, and maybe it will make more sense to ye," he told her. "Finmen are not evil and malicious. Well, most of us are not. The islanders like to blame us for poor fishing or for their fishermen being lost to the ocean. But the fact is that the sea is a cruel mistress, taking whoever she likes to a watery grave. It has nothing to do with us or with sinister plots we have against the islanders. Now the part about taking people ... Well, sometimes it was done."

Edward felt Bella stiffen in his arms and stroked her skin with his fingers to relax her.

"Our numbers have sometimes dwindled to dangerously low levels. Sometimes we would ... procure new people to join us. But we did not treat them badly. They were always happy to stay with us. They wanted for nothing."

Bella stared at him. He was rationalising the taking of people who had families ... lives ... dreams. She couldn't wrap her head around how calmly he seemed to be explaining this, as if it were no big deal, a necessity.

"I've got one question I need an answer for, and you have to tell me the truth," she announced as she fixed him with a stare. He nodded once and waited.

"What happened to Charles, Emilio and Rose?" she said.

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**A/N** Eynhallow does have its own real unsolved mystery. In July 1990 88 passengers took a trip to the island. Only 86 passengers returned. An extensive search did not uncover the whereabouts of the 2 missing people. Perhaps it was a mistake in counting the original number of people on the boat. But some wonder if it was 2 finmen, returning to their summer home. Time for the spooky music here...

This week I have been reading _The Work Boyfriend_ by Juliaaaah, which is funny and angsty. I really enjoyed it. Of course I am also reading _Picspirations_ by dellaterra and _Falling Empire of a Heart_ by HoochieMomma, both so talented.

Thanks for reading and please leave a review if you can.


	17. Eynhallow Part 2

**Thank you multiple times over to my beta reader dellaterra and my pre-reader HoochieMomma. **

**SM stills owns the original stuff. Any mistakes you find are mine.**

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_Charles Macleod was a nervous groom. He felt sure that marrying Isobel was the right thing to do, but he was conscious of his lack of experience in living with a woman, in loving a woman. Surely it would come naturally, but the thought of those first few days and weeks of becoming familiar with each other were weighing heavily on his mind. Therefore, being sent away on a trip was a welcome relief from the equally nervous glances Isobel sent his way when she thought he was not looking, and the good-humoured quips from the older men, the ones who had been wed a few years and had no need to worry about the difficulties of newly married life. _

_Sitting in the small boat and rowing to Sule Skerry was pleasant and calming. The warming ribbon of whisky in his bloodstream made him jovial and relaxed. The prospect of a few hours of shooting and collecting some birds as trophies was far more preferable to going home to the interminable questions from his mother and teasing from his sister and his cousins. As he climbed off the boat with Edward and Garrett, the two young farmhands sent to help him row, he was satisfied that the wedding preparations were well underway and they had no need of him. It was a slight surprise when suddenly his companions seemed unwilling to climb the path away from the water's edge and instead took a seat in the purple heather. Charles was about to question their actions when he was suddenly aware of singing - singing so unusual and haunting that he was rendered unable to do anything but listen to it. He could not tell where it was coming from; it was close by certainly, but where exactly he could not tell. In fact, he found that he was turning in slow circles, listening and trying to hear more and more. The two solemn men sat and watched him carefully, seemingly immune to the beautiful singing. The more he listened though, the more tired he became, his limbs growing heavy, as if filled with sand. Charles had only the vaguest notion that his knees were about to give way and his body was going to sink to the ground. Edward and Garrett were there to catch him and lay him gently down, loosening the gun from his grip. They left it on the path for the search party to find, along with Garrett's hat, which fell to the ground as they hoisted Charles up between them. And then he was away. Away from his life on the mainland, away from Isobel, away from everything he had ever known._

"Where is he now?" whispered Bella.

"Dead a long time ago. We cannot give our guests longevity," explained Edward.

"Guests? You kidnap people and call them guests?" Hysteria was creeping into Bella's voice.

Edward smiled and kissed her hand tenderly. "I know it is hard for ye to understand, but Charles was content. He did not have an unhappy life with us."

"So, where did you take him? What happened to him next?"

"After we lost this island to the Goodman of Thorodale, we found another summer home far north of here. We stay there each summer and in the winter we move to Finfolkaheem. Charles did not remember much of his life before he came to live with us, so he did not pine for anything."

"Or anyone. Pity the same cannot be said for his fiancee, Isobel. She pined for him, you know!" Bella's heart was breaking for the young girl who had been left to mourn the unexplained disappearance of her sweetheart.

"Aye, I am sure that she did. And I'm sorry for her distress. But her sacrifice was not in vain. We needed Charles to help continue our people. Although we can live a long time we are vulnerable to illness, especially diseases for which we have no immunity. For example, our visits to the land brought the Spanish Flu of 1918 to us and we lost many members of our community. Sometimes we are hunted by men who mistake us for seals in the water. And besides, we need new blood and new genes for our gene pool." Edward offered these explanations as if they were the simplest, most rational reasons for kidnapping someone and taking them to an underwater world for the rest of their lives.

"And Emilio? What happened to him?"

Edward nodded. "The same, really. He joined us to help us procreate. He was happy with us. He lived until his old age, surrounded by his children."

"What about his family in Italy? Have you no compassion for them? And his new fiancee? There was no happy ever after for her!" Her words were laced with fury and disgust.

Edward sighed and rubbed her hands between his. "We had no choice, Bella. The decision to take someone is not made lightly. It is the only way for us to survive."

"Garrett and I were sent by the elders of our community to live on Hoy for a few months as farmhands. It was our task to find a suitable male to join us. When Charles arrived and announced his intention to row out to Sule Skerry, it seemed fated. He was the one sent to us. As for Emilio, he went swimming one night, after celebrating his engagement by imbibing a wee bit too much of the Speirin' bottle. It was straightforward for Garrett to make it look like Emilio had gotten into difficulties and drowned."

An anguished cry went up from Bella. _What about Margaret? _she wanted to scream, picturing the young girl going from receiving congratulations from well-wishers, to receiving condolences in the space of twenty-four hours.

Edward tried again to convince her. "Would ye hae a whole race die out, when they could easily be saved?"

Bella felt torn. She understood the logic of Edward's responses but she could not disregard the deep-seated anger she felt toward the actions of the finmen. To calculatedly wrench someone from his life for your own purposes, and never give him an option or a chance to go back, seemed undeniably unfair.

"What about me?" Bella suddenly demanded. "Am I going to be taken off to Finfolkaheem, or wherever it is that you live now?" Panic set in around the edges of her chest.

Edward pulled her close and stroked her back. "No lass, I'm not going to spirit ye away. I ask nothing of ye except..." He stopped speaking and kissed her instead, pushing his hands into her hair and pressing each part of his body to hers so there was not a gap left anywhere between them. There was a fervour in his kiss, an urgency, as if he were trying to communicate everything he needed to with his lips and tongue. Bella felt herself loosen, as if tension and complications evaporated the longer he kissed her. She heard herself moan, and his grip on her grew even more fierce.

When at last he released her, she stared at him, wide eyed. He stared back at her, not speaking, just reading her with his eyes. Bella wondered if he was telling her something with the way he stared at her, but if he was, she could not be sure what it was.

He rose from his stone seat and pulled her by the hand. They wandered a while among the ruins of the church and Bella tried to imagine the finfolk living there, hidden from the ordinary islanders by sea charms and a magical fog. She tried to imagine the monks arriving here to build their church and make the land holy again after the stain of the finfolks' existence.

"That just leaves Rose," Bella reminded him. "What happened to her?"

Edward looked away, as if this was the question he had been dreading. He slowly turned back to her, squared his shoulders and sighed. "Rose was not taken by us. We had no hand in her disappearance."

"What do you mean?" asked Bella, even though she knew what he was about to say, and her blood froze in apprehension.

"The hill trows took her. Took her for their own purposes," Edward said and watched her face for alarm or surprise.

"Because she was pregnant? But what about the other pregnant women on Orkney? Shouldn't we warn them or something?"

Edward dipped his head to one side as if he were hesistating. "No, there is no need. They will not bother any mortal, man or woman, for a long time yet now."

"What do you mean?"

"There is an agreement. They are not to touch anyone else for two dozen years. They will stick to it, unless they want to answer to us."

"Like some sort of quota? They are allowed to take someone every once in a while, so long as they behave themselves the rest of the time?" Bella was incredulous.

"Aye, something like that. I know it sounds ... primitive. But in the main, it works well."

"Except for Rose's family and friends, the people who loved her, the people left behind to pick up the pieces!"

Edward said nothing to this. Having answered her questions, his face was now set into a grim mask as he realised how little sense his calm explanation made and how it had failed to placate Bella.

She turned on her heel and walked off. She found a piece of sunny grass to sit on and stared out at the ocean. With the blue waves rolling, showing just the tips of the swells, it was as pretty as any photograph in a travel brochure. But Bella knew differently now; she knew that beneath the tranquil surface of the sea and the verdant fields and knolls were dark secrets and evil plans of hidden worlds.

Edward came and sat next to her after a while. He let his body touch hers and when she didn't pull away, he snaked an arm around her waist and kissed her on the cheek. She sighed and wiped away a stray tear.

"Edward, can I see her?" Bella said.

"What?"

"Rose. I want to see her. You have to help me find her."

"That's impossible, Bella," he told her, shaking his head to convey the futility of her request.

"Edward, there is one thing I have learned since I arrived in Orkney," she announced with certainty. "Nothing is impossible."

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**A/N** The Speirin' Bottle was the bottle the young man would take with him to ask for his intended's hand in marriage.

I'm sorry it is short! It was the natural place to break but I'll post again within the week. Pinky promise.

3 vamp fics I am reading are:

Giving Way to Dusk by HelenahJay - Edward is forced to join the Volturi Guard and Bella has to go home to Forks without him

Howl by badjujube - Badass Bella joins the Volturi and breaks Edward's heart

Homophobe by YouarenotMe - Mike is the central character struggling to come to terms with his sexuality

All amazing!

Thanks for reading.


	18. Between Stone and Sky

**This would not be possible without my beta dellaterra and my prereader HoochieMomma. Smooches to you both.**

**SM owns the original, I just took them to northern Scotland. **

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Edward left Bella sleeping that night, tired by the fresh sea breeze and the exhausting conversations they'd had. He lulled her to sleep and, satisfied that she was soundly sleeping, he let himself out of the house and walked down to the beach. The night air was cool and the marram grass stirred slightly with the breeze. The sea was freezing as always, but as he waded into its depths, he felt no coldness, no unpleasantness. Welcoming the feeling of the salt water on his skin, he walked until waist deep. Then he dipped his head and shoulders in and began to swim. He cut a straight path through the water, powering solidly through the waves, never letting the painfully low temperature slow him down. When he reached his boat, bobbing up and down gently in the water, he easily pulled himself into it and let the boat start to move, powered by a simple command from his mind. He sailed away from Bella's beach and tried not to worry about her dogged determination to find Rose.

Bella was not happy that Edward had told her it was at best a foolish plan and at worst a dangerous one. He had flatly refused to tell her how to contact the hill trows or indeed answer any more of her questions. She had climbed in the boat for the return journey from Eynhallow and turned her back on him, fixing her eyes on some far-off point on the horizon rather than look at him. He had tried to reason with her, but she refused to say anything and let her mouth set into a hard line, as if she were pressing her lips together in anger and frustration.

Edward had brought the boat as near to shore as possible and Bella had jumped out, hardly flinching at the cold water around her ankles. She watched him disappear back out to sea with the boat, with a promise that he would come back in the evening. She knew he would return with his own boat, and it crossed her mind that perhaps it was the same boat that had taken Charles, and then Emilio, far away from the lives they had been in the middle of living until they found themselves transported into a different world, a supernatural existence. Bella had grimaced as she recalled Edward's revelation that they did not remember much of their lives before, as if the finfolk had brainwashed them, weakened the memories of their lives on the land. The furious part of her wondered if she could trust Edward. Or would she one day wake up in a strange underwater kingdom, or on a faraway island made invisible by a mystic fog and a spell? But as he smiled at her and raised his arm in farewell, her heart twisted at thinking the worst of him. As she climbed the path back to her croft, she tried to convince herself that she didn't have any reason to doubt his word.

Her mood had improved only slightly when he returned to her house that evening. When he tried to explain his reasons for not giving her the information she wanted, she responsed with monosyllables. However, she did not shirk away when he drew his arms around her and pulled her close to him. She kissed him when he kissed her, and let her fingers feel the flex of his muscles in his back. But she did not laugh or talk to him. She looked sad and tense, unable to free herself from the heavy burden of her thoughts.

When Bella woke the next morning, her determination was renewed and undaunted by Edward's reluctance to help her. As she watched the steam rise from her cup of tea, she searched for another way to find Rose. Alice and Jessica would help her, but she doubted they knew any more than she did. She couldn't go to Mike with this. She could almost feel his disdain and disbelief if she even tried to approach him with her theory that Rose was not dead, but alive and living in a home buried deep in the earth. Donald was a possibility but he had mentioned going to Ireland for a convention on folklore and she was afraid he had already left.

Esme was the last possibility. Bella pictured herself turning up on Esme's doorstep, announcing what she needed and watching the old lady's face either nod seriously or frown in astonished confusion. Bella was not sure which of the two was more likely.

Getting to Esme's house involved a walk to the main road and a bus ride, followed by a lift with a passing islander who recognised her. Soon enough, Bella found herself standing on Esme's doorstep, ringing the bell and wondering where to start with her curious request.

When Esme came to the door, she did not look in the slightest bit surprised to see the young American girl standing here. "Bella dear," she said. "Come in. I was wondering when you would be back."

"I need to find the hill trows," announced Bella dramatically, unable to hold back the urgency in her voice.

Esme stared at her. She took Bella's arm and led her into the living room and sat her on the couch. Esme took the armchair beside her and stared seriously at her. "That seems like an ill-advised idea, Bella," she said finally.

"I know. Edward has already told me that it's dangerous and refuses to help me. But they have Rose and I want to speak to them. I need to make them realise that they have to give her back."

"Rose? Rose Hale?" Esme asked in disbelief. She pulled her lips together and pressed down as if she were squeezing all the blood out of them. "She has been gone a few years now. And the hill trows have her, do they?"

"Yes," said Bella. "But they have to let her go. If I could speak to them, perhaps I could convince them to release her!"

"Bella, what makes you think they would listen to you?" replied Esme. "They are headstrong and determined. And their morals differ greatly from ours. Taking Rose is not such a crime to them. They don't see the injustice in it the way humans do."

"There must be something I can do," insisted Bella. "Is there something I could give them, or do for them?"

"You are on very dangerous ground there," cautioned Esme. "They want healthy children. Are you prepared to go that far?"

Bella shook her head sadly.

The two women sat in silence for a while. In the kitchen a clock ticked loudly. Bella began to feel sick to her stomach and wished that she had never come to Orkney. Her desire to find out more about another country and its tales had turned into so much more. She wondered if she got on the ferry at Kirkwall and sailed away whether she could erase everything she had learned about selkies, finfolk, the hill trows and their malfeasant kidnappings. But in the same instant the memory of Edward's smile, the way his eyes held hers, the burning path his fingers trailed over her skin made her realise that nothing would ever make her regret her decision to visit these magical isles.

"If crying seven tears into the ocean summons a selkie, then what summons the hill trows?" asked Bella.

"Music. Traditionally they would invite a fiddler in to play for them," responded Esme. "Can you play an instrument?"

Bella shook her head. "I can sing a bit," she suggested hopefully.

"That might work," agreed Esme. "You should probably go out somewhere remote, or somewhere they have been seen before and sing. Perhaps they will appear for you."

Esme crossed the room and lifted up something from the floor. Bella was surprised to see her pull a laptop out of a case and power it up. Esme glanced back at Bella's astonished face. "I may be elderly but I am no Luddite," she said pointedly.

"I'm just jealous you have an Internet signal," replied Bella.

The laptop whirred to life and Esme quickly found what she was looked for. "Here," she said, pointing to the screen. "There are accounts of them being seen at the Standing Stones O' Stenness."

"Where's that?" asked Bella.

"It is one of the earliest stone circles in the country. It is only a mile from the Ring O' Brodgar," said Esme. Bella bent her head close to Esme's and together they read an account of a troop of small wizened men seen dancing in the moonlight at the site of the four remaining irregular shaped stones at Stenness.

"Keep reading dear," said Esme after a while. "I'm going to put the kettle on."

As Bella read on, she discovered more about the hill trows. She learned that they hated locked doors and often plagued a farmer's luck if he displeased them. They shot little arrows into the soft skin of cows and sheep to bring ill to a farm. They were thought to be the souls of the dead, living in the earthern mounds where centuries ago the dead had been buried. Bella learned that to keep yourself safe from the hill trows you must draw a circle in the ground with an iron or steel blade and stay within it as they cannot touch you if you are protected by a circular line.

And so it was decided. She would travel to the Stenness Stones, mark a circle in the earth, place herself in the centre and sing until the hill trows appeared. She knew that she could not reveal her plans to Edward, and wondered how she could keep such an important secret from him. She would have to fabricate a story to explain why she would be away for the night, and she would have to look convincing when she told him this barefaced lie. Bella hoped he would not hate her for lying to him and for going against his wishes. She focused on seeing Rose and her child, hoping that she was right about all these decisions she was making. The alternative was too horrible to contemplate, and Bella could not think about that right now.

There was nothing more to do but phone Alice and ask to borrow her car. She would need transportation to the Stenness Stones, and Bella didn't fancy hiking over the rough ground in the middle of the night. Alice seemed unusually excited to hear from Bella. Her voice was even more perky and upbeat than normal and Bella wondered if she was having some sort of sugar rush.

"No, I just have some exciting news!" Alice gushed down the telephone line. Bella waited.

"I'm not telling you over the phone, Bella. I'm saving it until I see you in person," Alice added in a singsong tone. Bella rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling to herself at her friend's enthusiasm.

However, Alice refused to lend Bella her car until she told her what she was up to. Bella pleaded with her but Alice knew something was afoot and she was determined not to be left out.

"Bella, I'll take you anywhere you want to go, but I'm coming too," Alice told her determinedly. "For goodness sake, I've met your mysterious man from the sea. How much more surreal can it get than that?"

_Plenty more surreal,_ thought Bella but she said nothing. She just told Alice to pick her up the next evening at nine o'clock.

When Edward arrived that evening, Bella managed a good job of acting normal, she thought. She pretended to forgive Edward for his lack of cooperation on the issue of meeting the hill trows and they passed the evening in easy humour. Seeing Edward in a relaxed mood, she mentioned that she had been invited to the cinema in Kirkwall by Alice the following evening and to save a long journey home she was going to stay with her in her flat that night.

Edward looked satisfied with Bella's lie and made a point of drawing her close and telling her he was going to pay her some special attention as she would be away from him for a night. She giggled and wriggled in his arms but soon found herself utterly spellbound by the touch of his fingers on her arms, her stomach, her breasts. She gasped as he silently worked over her body with a diligence that still amazed her. Bella felt pinned to the bed, much like a butterfly held in place by a worshipful collector who appreciated every part of her. She pushed her feelings of guilt and duplicity to the corners of her mind while she let Edward work his magic on every nerve and muscle. He took her to places where there was nothing but here and now, the sensation of his skin on hers and the waves of desire that grew and swelled until they crashed down, leaving Bella dazed and breathless.

In the quiet of the night, as she let Edward lull her to sleep, Bella thought about what she was planning to do the next evening. Would she face danger? Was she tempting fate? Could she save Rose? She really had no idea. She could only hope that she would not lose Edward over it.

The next day Bella felt like a cat on a hot tin roof. She jumped at every unexpected noise and cast her eyes around her constantly as if she expected the peedie folk to leap out and surprise her. Edward had said goodbye with a long kiss, which only increased Bella's guilt about her deception and the knowledge that she was about to go against his express advice. He joked that she should behave and she had made a show of feigning offence at this suggestion. Perhaps in the back of both their minds was the memory of the last time he had told her to keep out of trouble as she prepared to attend the céilidh.

Bella tried writing but struggled with her concentration. The usual rush of creative energy she felt after Edward had been with her was quashed by her anxiety about what she was preparing to do. Her idea, which had seemed so brave and daring and even necessary while sitting in Esme's living room, now felt completely ridiculous. Her nerves became so bad that she took to pacing the small grassy lawn while she waited for Alice to arrive, staring all the time at the ocean, wondering if Edward could see her and sense her deception.

When Alice pulled up and Bella got in the car, she was so caught up in her thoughts that she practically forgot that Alice was bursting to tell her something. Alice talked and talked and yet did not reveal her news. She drove in her usual rally driver style and prattled on about twenty different topics, none of which Bella could remember anything about by the time Alice pulled into the car park and stopped the car.

"So, now I can tell you." Alice had turned in her seat and was facing Bella.

"The big reveal..." Bella added, throwing in some jazz hands for effect.

"Yes, indeed. I can reveal that ... Jasper has proposed to me and we are getting married!" Alice's face transformed itself into a picture of rapt excitement.

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Bella, grasping Alice's hands in her own. "When? Where? How?"

"He proposed the other day! His year here is nearly finished but he decided that whatever happens, he wants to be with me. We might stay here, or go to America after the wedding. We haven't made up our minds yet. We're just going to do what feels right!"

"Alice, I'm so pleased for you," said Bella, and she truly was. But the tension of what she was about to do, combined with this unexpected piece of happy news was enough to make her feel emotional and teary. She could feel tears prickling behind her eyes and tried to swallow them down out of the way.

The girls spent another few minutes discussing Jasper and wedding plans, and then, with some trepidation, Bella opened the door and told Alice she would not be long. She had spun a tale about wanting to take photographs of the stones in the moonlight and persuaded Alice that she preferred to work alone. Alice promised to sit and wait for her, listening to her iPod. Bella thought about telling Alice to find Edward and alert him if she did not return but decided against it. Delivering such a loaded request would be like waving a red flag at a bull.

Bella climbed the hill away from the car park, with several backward glances until she was satisfied that Alice was settled in the car. She had her camera bag over her shoulder and an old tripod Alice had dug out of a cupboard at home and insisted she try. As she approached the hill, the four stones standing erect and imposing against the rest of the scenery, with the other stones of the Ring O' Brodgar in the distance, she felt her heart boom in her chest and every sound she made seemed ten times louder and magnified to any listening ears.

Reaching a piece of flattened land in the centre of the circle, she reached into her pocket and took out an old knife that she'd found in her garden shed. With it she shaped a circle in the soil around her, taking care never to step outside the line she'd drawn. Sitting down inside it she filled her lungs with air and, feeling ridiculously self-conscious, began to sing. Her voice sounded reedy and weak with the unaccustomed effort of singing into the night air. She rolled her eyes at herself and hoped Alice could not hear her singing to the stones.

The minutes ticked by. Bella sometimes fancied that she could see movement at the corners of her eyes, but every time she turned her head, there was only the grass, the rocks and the night gloom to be seen. Still she sang on, hoping for some sign, some indication that she was right and the hill trows were near. She sang until her throat felt dry and scratchy and there no longer seemed to be any point. The hour was up and there had been no sign. Bella stood and picked up all of her belongings. Not stopping to glance behind her, she raced down the hill to the car park, feeling spooked by having to leave the circle she had depended on for protection.

When she reached the car, she slowed and smoothed down her shirt, drawing in a calming breath. She had to have a convincing story for Alice, a story of taking careful pictures, composition, time settings, apertures and so on. But when she opened the door and leaned in, the car was empty.

Alice was gone.

Already hoarse from singing at the stone, Bella called Alice's name until her voice gave out completely. She searched the surrounding area, stamping through the heather in an attempt to find any trace of her. Alice's handbag was still in the car, a list on top of it in Alice's handwriting. _Wedding ~ Things to do_ it said at the top, and in the margin Alice had scrawled _Alice Whitlock_ and next to it _Jasper Brandon_. Bella might have laughed at what this said about her friend if she had not been so panicked about why Alice was not in the car, and why she was not answering to her name. Bella held the small notepad in her hands and stared at it until suddenly her blood ran cold and she dropped the pad in fright.

Alice was now engaged. Alice was about to be a bride. And Bella had left her alone while only two hundred metres away she tried to summon the hill trows.

It had been Bella's intention to save Rose. What if now she had only succeeded in having Alice captured too?

Bella felt a wave of nausea rise up and her hands start to shake. She scanned the land before her one more time and hoarsely screamed Alice's name. When there was no reply, she ran to the driver's seat, climbed in and started the engine. Mimicking Alice's driving style, she drove at breakneck speed, not stopping until she was outside her house. Hardly pausing to close the car door, she raced down the cliff path to the beach, her feet sliding and slipping with the speed of her body propelling her forward. She reached the water's edge and paused. Now that she was here, she had no idea what to do next. She tried screaming Edward's name across the sea, yelling it time after time until her voice cracked. It was no good. She had no way of summoning him and he had no idea she needed him.

She was all alone.

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**A/N **The jazz hands ~ I couldn't resist a little, tiny homage to _And With Thee Fade Away. _If you haven't read it, you really should go find it now.

This week I was reading _Kingdom of Rust_ by Raggdoll of Twilight. This fic has suspense as its middle name. If you like sweet you should read _Pas de deux_ by Harperpitt. It has Edward in ballet tights, srsly!

**Thank you for reading. **I don't manage to reply to everyone but I love your reviews, thank you.


	19. The Simmer Dim

**Thank you to my beta dellaterra and my pre-reader HoochieMomma for sticking with me.**

**And thank you if you are still reading. I am so sorry for the break in posting. I dropped the ball, then it rolled under the sofa and got covered in fluff for a while. **

**The chapter title comes from the name given to the long summer nights that these islands get because of their northern position. The sun only sets for a few hours and it can remain light enough to see. The Shetland Tourism website describes these midnight hours as having a magical quality.**

**SM still owns the original stuff.**

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Bella spent the next hour in a daze. After wandering on the beach, hoping that somehow her luck would change and she would see Edward's boat sailing toward her, she eventually accepted that it was futile. She crept up the path, a mournful figure with hunched shoulders and weary footsteps, pausing at the last point where the ocean was visible. With a heavy heart, she surveyed the empty waves before turning to the croft and dragging herself inside.

Bella sat alone in her living room, adrift on a raft of numb confusion, unable to cry another tear for her foolish plan. Her thoughts tumbled around in her head, filled with fear, regret, and frustration. Fear for her friend trapped in an underground den with mischievous gnarled people who thought nothing of keeping her there for twenty-five years or more. Regret for the lies she had told Edward and her careless disregard for his warnings. Frustration that she needed him, no matter how angry he was going to be with her, and she had no way of reaching him. Round and round her head went with the horror of what she had instigated until, exhausted, she slipped into an uneasy slumber.

It was still dark when she felt herself being roused from sleep and she struggled at first to understand why she was being dragged out of this respite from the thoughts that had been torturing her. But when she looked into Edward's green eyes and saw him kneeling on the floor in front of her, she flung herself wordlessly at him. The relief of him there, the feel of his wet, smooth skin warm against her, his hand stroking her hair as she clung to him dissipated some of the tension that flooded back through her body as sleep left.

"What are you doing here?" she gasped in a voice strangled with emotion when she finally was able to pull herself away from him.

"I might ask ye the same question, Bella," Edward replied. "Why are ye no in Kirkwall wi' Alice?"

The mention of Alice's name was a painful stab to Bella's heart. She choked down a sob and tried to steel herself against the disappointment she knew she would see in Edward's face when she told him everything. He was staring at her with concern in his eyes and she wondered how quickly it would all change.

She took a deep breath and told him the story, starting with her visit to Esme, the news of Alice's engagement, her heedless plan to attract the trolls and finishing with how she had searched all over for her friend and had found no sign of her. Edward rocked back on his heels, and looking deep in thought when she concluded her story and could bring herself to meet his eyes again. He remained silent as he absent-mindedly played with her fingers.

"Do you think that the hill trows have taken her?" whispered Bella fearfully, still waiting for Edward to scold her for the risks and dangers she had invited so willingly.

"Aye, I fear so," he confirmed. "But we have an agreement and they have blatantly broken it. They had no business taking Alice, even though I daresay ye made it overwhelmingly tempting for them." For an instant a dark, vexed look crossed his face and then it was gone again.

"What can we do?" asked Bella in a dull voice, the energy draining from her body as if she had been struck by a sudden illness.

"I will go to Finfolkaheem and hold a meeting with the elders," Edward said. She realised that he was stroking the back of her neck, making her drowsy, offering her respite for a while from the grim reality of the situation. "Ye are exhausted, Bella. Sleep now." And she felt him pick her up and carry her to the bedroom.

"But Alice…" she managed to utter as if in a drunken stupor.

"Di'na worry. We'll get her back," Edward assured her as she felt his lips kiss her fingers. She tried to grip him tighter, keep him close, anchor him to her side, but sleep came and overtook her again.

When Bella awoke she found Edward in the garden. The morning was brand new and the sunlight threw bright, glittering sparkles across the waves in front of them as they looked out to sea. Bella's heart lurched at the thought of Alice locked in some underground prison, never to see a sunrise again if the hill trows had their way.

Edward greeted her with a solemn look, but Bella did not find the anger she expected to see on his face. Nevertheless, she felt a compulsion to apologise for her actions. Going directly against Edward's wishes had backfired spectacularly on her and had harmed an innocent person. Bella's head pounded with guilt and regret.

"Edward, I'm so sorry. I should have listened to ..."

"Shh. I ken. I understand," he told her and took her hand.

"How did you know to come last night?" she asked him as he drew her close.

"Ye cried into the sea, remember? I kent, although I was far away, that I should come to ye." Edward kissed her softly as tears came once again.

Bella closed her eyes and squeezed them tightly at the memory of her desperation the night before. Her panic had choked her, taken a stranglehold on her.

"I want ye to stay here," he told her, kissing her cheeks, her neck, her fingers. "I will be back in the evening once I hae spoken to the elders."

He broke his embrace with her and walked to the end of her garden. The separation was a painful wrench.

"No more foolhardy plans and schemes," he called to her as he left, and his mock-chastisement raised the smallest of smiles on her tearstained face.

Bella nodded and said nothing more, watching him gracefully stride down the path to the beach. With him went her only chance of saving Alice, and Bella could do nothing but trust and hope that he would return with good news. She wondered if anyone had noticed yet that Alice was missing. She grimaced at the thought of Alice's parents worrying about where their daughter was and at Jasper wondering why she was not answering her phone.

Once Edward had been gone for a few minutes, Bella crept down the path, keeping her body low, and watched Edward swim powerfully through the water. He reached his boat and swung himself into it, the vessel hardly stirring in the water. Then it started to move, skimming through the waves and heading north. Bella sat and watched, hugging her knees to her chest as the boat travelled further and further away from her, until it was a only faint spot on the endless expanse of blue.

The day was long. Time seemed to play some sort of trick on her because every glance at the clock showed hands stuck in the same position. And yet, slowly and painfully, it was at last evening and Bella felt twitchy not only with relief that Edward would soon be back, but also with anxiety about what news he would bring.

When Edward finally arrived, he found Bella sitting on the sofa, the room silent, her fingers twisting with impatience for his news. As he knelt before her, his hair still dripping from the sea, she had an urge to touch him, run her fingers through his smooth locks and feel his warm skin on hers. Instead she sat on her hands and waited for him to speak.

"I called a meeting with the elders and told them what the hill trows hae done. We are in agreement that they hae broken the treaty and we are within our rights to take action," he told her.

She nodded and waited for him to continue. She did not trust herself to speak.

"We have called a meeting with the leaders of the hill trows tonight and will demand that they release Alice," Edward continued.

"And Rose?" asked Bella tentatively.

Edward's face creased with a frown and then smoothed again. "Rose may be more difficult, but there is a chance. We hae the upper hand here."

Bella nodded, a tiny little nod, grateful that there was a chance, grateful that her ill-advised attempts may yet lead to the trows giving up the girls.

"How will you call a meeting with them?" she asked.

"Their next of kin, the sea trows, carry messages between the two parties. The sea trows are not much use to anyone, but they can manage at least that much," he said. "There has been a meeting called between both parties at Marwick Head."

"Other finmen are coming?" asked Bella, suddenly afraid that she would have to face these creatures with a fearsome reputation who would not approve of the trouble she had caused.

"Aye, there will be three others with me. Peter and Garrett have already helped me, when I needed James taken to the dungeon. Eleazar is also coming, to represent the elders."

"Can I come?" asked Bella. She could not bear the thought of him leaving her here alone, tormented by not knowing what was happening.

Edward regarded her carefully. Then he brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it. "I think that ye better come along. That way I can keep an eye on ye."

Bella managed a weak smile.

The evening hours ticked by slowly. Edward did not talk much but rather just rubbed her hands, her arms, her neck in a way that reassured her. Bella was grateful for the skin-to-skin contact, the signs that he felt the desire to keep touching her.

At half past ten, they made their way to the beach and Edward brought the boat as close to the shore as he could. Bella waded into the cold water up to her ankles. Then Edward scooped her up into his arms and carried her through the waves to the waiting vessel. She breathed in the smell of him, her fingers around his neck memorising the warmth and texture of his skin. For an insane moment Bella wanted him to deposit her in the bottom of the boat, cast off her clothes and reduce the anxiety and desperation racing through her body to a primeval urge that would give them release. She drew in her breath as she tried to rid the image from her mind and he threw her a grin as if he knew what she was thinking. She blushed and took a seat as they started on their journey.

They sailed southwest along the coast, Bella sitting in the boat and Edward standing, as she had seen him do before. The night was calm, the sea's surface ruffling only slightly with the breeze and the never-ending tide. There was silence, apart from the sounds of the sea's movement. Bella tried to quell the rising anxiety in her stomach, but the silence pressed in on her, taunting her. Edward's protective presence was the only thing that kept her from shaking. It was a clear night with the sun touching the horizon, leaving streaks of pink and red in the sky. Bella stared at the sunset, knowing that the sun would rise again in only a few hours, and every corner of the islands would bask in sunshine and light. But the earthern mounds of the trows would remain in their own subterranean gloom.

At last they headed toward the shore again and Edward steered the boat onto a sandy beach, pulling it up out of the tide's reach. Bella jumped out and stared at the outline of Kitchener's Memorial high above them. The crenelated monument stood for the 643 lives lost when HMS Hampshire was sunk by a German mine in 1916. It was a fitting backdrop for this meeting between two enemies, she supposed. Edward grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly, and they climbed the grassy hillocks, past deserted farm cottages with neglected roofs and crumbling walls, toward the wilder area higher up. In the twilight she could see three tall figures waiting for them, their frames as still and imposing as large stone statues.

Edward walked up to greet them, Bella grasping his hand and forcing herself not to hide behind him. The finmen watched them approach, regarding Bella silently.

"Peter, Garrett, Eleazar," Edward greeted them with a nod of his head. They nodded back, their eyes still trained on Bella. He tugged slightly at Bella to bring her forward. "This is Bella." His voice was calm but something about the set of his shoulders told her that he wanted this introduction to go well.

"Bella, so interesting to meet ye," declared the one called Eleazar, his voice booming in the quiet night. "Once the evening's business is over, I hope we shall hae the chance to become better acquainted."

Bella managed a small smile at his friendly courtesy and her smile grew less stiff when she saw Peter grin and wink at her as the four finmen turned toward the grass mound beyond them.

At that very instant, three small figures emerged from a grassy knoll. They were half the size of normal men, with faces dominated by large pointed features. They had short, squat bodies with long arms and crooked legs, and large, narrow feet. Their eyes regarded the finmen peremptorily, suspicion holding their expresssions rigid and serious. However, when one of them spotted Bella, their faces changed and they quickly exchanged a murmur with each other. But they fell silent and arranged themselves in a line as the finmen advanced with Bella.

There was an oppressive silence at first. Then Eleazar, the most senior of the finmen, spoke.

"Greetings Marcus, Aro and Caius. How unfortunate that we must meet under these unhappy circumstances." His sentiment was polite but his tone was disdainful.

"Eleazar," returned Aro, who stood between his two companions. He folded his arms and gave a look of self-satisfaction that made Bella's palms clammy.

"As ye are aware, there was an agreement regarding the taking of humans from the island, and ye seem to be in contravention of this treaty. Now we find ourselves in this unpleasant situation," Eleazar continued.

"Perhaps for ye it is unpleasant. For us, recent events have been most favourable," crooned Aro smoothly.

Peter and Garrett folded their arms and widened their stances, as if to signal their disapproval of Aro's statement. Eleazar shook his head and smiled, as if he were playing along with a little joke. "Ye hae broken the agreement. Now ye must hand back the girl."

Aro took a step forward and Bella was startled how light of foot he was and quick in his movements. "We hae an agreement, 'tis true, but when we are summoned and provoked in such a blatant manner, we cannot be blamed for acting on instinct." He spread his hands as if he were offering some friendly consolation.

Edward's grip on her hand increased and Bella leaned into him for support.

"The actions of a stranger, unfamiliar with our ways, were regrettable. Nevertheless, ye hae gone against yer word. Ye must rectify the situation and return the girl."

_Girls!_ screamed Bella in her head and Edward seemed to sense this for he squeezed her hand even more tightly in warning.

"We were invited last night. We merely took what was offered to us," countered Aro, with a sly smile on his misshapen face.

"I repeat, the mistake was a stranger's, a foreigner to our shores." Eleazar's tone was more angry and forceful.

Aro simply shrugged in the manner of a person who does not wish to concern himself with someone else's problem. The other two trolls said nothing, only observing the scene while flanking Aro.

"There must be a compromise that can be made," voiced Garrett. He took a step forward as he said this, to emphasise his point.

"Why should we compromise with ye on this?" asked the trow standing on the right of Aro, and he took a step forward to match the one Garrett had taken. His tone was menacing and his skelly eye added a frightening demeanour to his face.

"Because we know how to make life very difficult for ye," responded Peter, breaking his silence. "In recent times we hae tolerated each other. But perhaps ye forget who is the more powerful between us here."

The hill trows bristled visibly at this assertion. A dark look crossed Aro's repugnant face, wiping the mirth from it. Bella could not help but wonder if this was going to end in a duel.

"What can you offer us in exchange for the girl?" snarled Aro.

The effort of not blurting out _Girls!_ made a small whimper escape from Bella's lips and she clapped her hands over her mouth to silence herself. Edward heard it though and stepped forward.

"We want both girls. Alice and Rose," he announced.

The silence that followed this statement was shattered when the three hill trows started cackling and hooting with laughter. Their laughter was cruel and unsettling.

"And why would we gie you twa girls?" laughed Aro. "Surely one is enough. What could ye possibly offer us that would be worth twa lassies?"

There was a moment's pause, and then the bargaining began.

"Pearls," offered Peter. "We hae the finest pearls in our winter home, piled up in heaps. They would decorate yer halls in a fine manner."

"Aye," agreed Aro. "But what else?"

"Fine glassware from the far corners of the world. Intricate metalwork the likes of which ye hae never seen."

Aro remained silent, forcing Peter to continue.

"Treasure we hae gathered from shipwrecks. Gold, diamonds, emeralds and sapphires."

"Mmm, gracious offers, but ye came upon these jewels and trinkets at no cost to yerselves," said Aro in a voice laced with greed and connivance. "I reckon ye should sacrifice something more precious to yerselves."

Bella looked at the finmen, her heart racing with dread. What more was there to offer? They did not break their gaze from the trolls. It was Edward who stepped forward, breaking his hold on Bella's hand.

"The Odin Stone," he announced and the atmosphere froze as if he had spoken three magical words.

Aro stared and blinked his bulging eyes. He seemed discombobulated.

"The Odin Stone? It was destroyed nearly twa hundred years ago. Ye cannae mean the real stone," he asserted.

"Aye, indeed I do," Edward confirmed. "The official line is that it was destroyed by the ignorant ferrylouper who wanted it off his land. But 'tis no the truth. We hae it, buried in a cave, far out to sea."

The effect of this revelation on the trolls was palpable despite their efforts to stay still and remain calm. Bella could see Aro's fingers twitch while he tried to keep his face impassive.

"Imagine, Aro! Ye could hae yer stone back for yer moonlight dances around it. What a hero ye would be!" Eleazar ventured, and the finmen smirked at the image of the small people dancing around the stone that was once one of their sacred places.

The hill trows made a huddle and whispered furiously. After a minute, they reformed themselves into a line. Aro stepped forward.

"We accept this proposition. We will return the twa lasses in exchange for the Odin Stone," announced Aro, and Bella felt lightheaded with relief, joy, delight. But he was not finished. "We hae only one condition."

He raised one crooked, wizened finger at Bella and pointed.

"She must fetch it from the sea cave!"

Giddiness from relief suddenly threatened to become shock from fear and dread as Bella felt the eyes of seven supernatural beings upon her and an impossible task laid out before her.

o-o

"Tell me everything," said Bella. They were sitting on the grass at the stone tower which served as the memorial to Kitchener's long lost men after Edward had demanded the right to speak to her in private. The trolls had agreed, a sly look of triumph obvious on Aro's face.

"The Odin Stone was a favourite meeting place for the trolls. It was popular with the islanders too, who knew of its magic. Do ye remember the story of the Goodman of Thorodale who gained the sight of Eynhallow by crawling around the Odin Stone on his knees every month for nine new moons? And the islanders went there to perform their handfasting ceremonies."

Bella's face showed her puzzlement.

"Handfasting was a way of betrothing yerself to another by joining hands through the hole in the Odin Stone and making yer vows. But some fool had enough of people coming onto his land to visit the stone and threatened to destroy it. Luckily one of our kind was near at hand and intervened before he smashed it into pieces."

"But why did you tell me it had been destroyed? And the trolls obviously thought it was long gone."

"We kept our possession of the stone a secret from the trolls. We are staunch rivals. We reckoned it was always useful to have a tool for bartering, something your enemy wanted. So we hid it from them and they hae never known anything of its fate, until tonight."

"And you are allowed to bargain it for Alice and Rose?"

"Aye, the elders hae given me permission to do so. I guess it is this sort of situation we figured we needed a bargaining tool for."

"Where is it? And how can I retrieve it?"

"Tis hidden in a cave underneath Sule Skerry. We chose that location because there it is well concealed from the trolls. The sea trolls ken it is there but they were silenced by our threats and they are such clueless creatures they most likely hae forgotten all about it."

Bella's heart lurched slightly at the realisation that the small islet where her long-gone relative Charles had disappeared from was where the Odin Stone was now kept. But how could she reach the cave, a underwater room deep beneath the waves?

Edward was reading her expression and seemed to know exactly what she was thinking.

"There is a way, Bella," he stated, a heaviness in his tone that jarred with everything he had just told her. "Ye are no going to like it."

"Why? Will it hurt?" she asked, fear edging itself into her chest.

"In a way." He hesitated, his eyes fixed on hers, telling her to listen and hold her judgement until he had finished.

"I hae to bite ye."

She shook her head as if water was lodged in her ears. "Bite me? Like a vampire?"

Suddenly she wanted to laugh, to slump sideways onto the grass and roll, laugh until her lungs hurt. Hysteria felt like a blissful state to enter into at that moment. But she suppressed her urge when she saw the pained look on Edward's face.

"I di'na ken about any vampire. But my bite will release a venom into yer blood. It will cause a chemical reaction to yer body. Ye will be able to swim faster, longer, more deeply under the sea than any mortal. It is how we transport our human guests to our homelands."

Suddenly it made sense. This was the bridge between human and selkie. This was the way to transform her body into that of an expert swimmer, an extreme swimmer, the swimmer she would need to be to find the Odin Stone and gain freedom for Alice and Rose.

Bella jumped to her feet. "I'll do it. Tell me how to find the stone and I'll do it," she told Edward, her enthusiasm radiating from her.

Edward gave a shake of his head and rose to his feet. He reached out and grabbed her shoulders. "I've no told ye everything yet," he said. "I can only do this once for ye. Yer body can react to the venom only one time."

She felt her energy and enthusiam leak out of her body into the night air as she processed what he was telling her.

"If ye do this now ye can never come to live in Finfolkaheem wi' me. Bella, I thought we had plenty of time to make decisions about the future. Now everything has changed. I should never hae let them clap their evil eyes on ye tonight."

Bella stared at him as he continued, anger in his voice.

"Don't ye see what the trolls are doing here? They are making ye chose. They want ye to chose between Alice and Rose and a life wi' me."

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A/N Edward tells Bella the story mentioning the Odin Stone in chapter 16. A 'ferrylouper' is an expression for an incomer.

Although I had a FFN break I did read 'A Garment of Brightness' by miaokuancha. It is exquisite and wonderful. I truly love it.

Thank you for reading and for your patience. We are nearly at the end.


	20. The Arms of the Ocean

**Many, many thanks to my beta dellaterra and my pre-reader HoochieMomma.**

**Thank you if you are still reading. I'm sorry for the delay.**

**SM still owns the original stuff and remaining mistakes are mine.**

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The Brough of Birsay was a tidal island not far along the coast from Bella's small cottage. It sat on the northwestern corner of the Mainland, deserted but for a few tourists keen to brave the tides and wind to gaze at the remains of Norse and Pictish settlements. The far side of the island faced onto the ocean - the cold, dark waters that Bella Swan had agreed to cast herself into.

_"Don't ye see what the trolls are doing here? They are making ye choose." Edward's words had been full of anguish, his frustration leaking from him as he tried to explain it to Bella. The trolls had been quick to see a way to trap Bella in a choice between two irreconcilable alternatives. Edward had caught them off guard with his revelation about the Odin Stone__,__ but they had wasted no time__,__ immediately throwing back his curve ball with wicked accuracy. Bewildered, Bella had said nothing when she processed what Edward was telling her. She could become like him, swim deeper and further than ever before. But she could do it only once. It was her Golden Ticket to Finfolkaheem and the trolls were making her forfeit it._

_"Does it matter, Edward?" she had said. "Does it matter if I only live on land with you? Can't we just carry on with how things are?"_

_Edward had hung his head and squeezed her shoulders. "It will only be half a life__,__ Bella. I cannae live indefinitely on land; I need the sea. And my people need me. I would choose ye though, but I thought I could hae both."_

_"But if it only works once__,__ then you would have expected me to go to Finfolkaheem and never leave? I don't understand. I don't know if I could have done that." Bella saw the faces of Charles and Renee in her mind, her house in Forks with the creaking porch swing and yellow kitchen cabinets, the dense green forests of Clallam county, the smell of the rain on pine and the faces of her school and college friends flashing through her mind. Was this what it would have come to? A choice between everything in her previous life and what Edward could give her? An enduring love, a passion she knew she would find only once in her lifetime, the other half of her._

_"It would hae been yer choice Bella. I would never hae forced ye to chose something ye didnae want. Just like now, I'll no press ye to make a decision one way or another." His eyes gazed at her steadily, even though his fingers moved with agitation up and down her arms. "Ye must decide for yerself what to do. I'll stand by what ye decide."_

_Bella hugged her knees and watched the summer sky lighten. Fingers of vermilion streaked the pale blue horizon, making the waves of the sea seem tipped with pink. Wispy clouds hung motionless above the gently moving waters, which rolled toward the beach, pushing and pulling at the pebbles. The sun was going to appear, the day was about to begin, and her decision needed to be made. Edward had left her alone to think, walking a distance away. She knew if she turned around she would see him watching her, waiting for her. And so she kept her eyes on the sky and the sea, willing herself to consider everything without panic or desperation. _

_In the end__,__ it came down to one thing. Many miles away, in years gone by, she had sat on another cliff with Jake, letting the sun warm her, the smell of the sea so strong she could taste it on her tongue. Adrenaline had pumped through her body, pushing fear away and letting euphoria in. If she listened carefully__,__ she could hear the hollers of excitement as the cliff jumpers took off, the deep splash as they hit the water, the whoops of joy as they broke the surface. She saw Jake's wide grin and twinkling eyes as he took her hand, his skin beaded with salt water, pulling her close as they stumbled back to land, his instant demand to do it again, like an overexcited puppy. All that was forever etched in her memory. It was their beautiful youth, gone and tainted by the loss of him. She had had to learn to live with losing him__,__ and the guilt that it had been him and not her that day when it had gone wrong and he had disappeared under the sea foam and had not come back. She could see Billy's face at the funeral, the pride with which he had spoken about his son, the dignified grace he had displayed. But his eyes showed the pain, the raw edge of grief that he would carry with him for the rest of his days._

_No, she would not do that to Alice's parents. _

_Standing up__,__ she turned her back on the sea and the sunrise. Edward walked toward her, bathed in the glow of the emerging sun, looking like some god sent to her from a Greek myth. She would do anything for this man__,__ she thought, but first she needed to put right the wrong she had done._

_"I'll do it," she said simply and he nodded as if he had known that this was what she was going to say. _

_"It will be arranged," he told her and kissed her on the forehead. "Come, I'll take ye hame."_

The coastal walk to the Point of Buckquoy had not taken long. Edward had wanted to take her in his boat but Bella had insisted on walking, keeping her feet firmly on the ground as if guarding the time left before she had to embrace the cold sea waves. The day had been spent indoors, sleeping after the night on the hillside, with Edward bringing her food as if supplying a constant stream of snacks would provide the energy she would require for the trolls' task. She had eaten some of it and pushed some of it away, preferring to pull him toward her, kissing him with a fervour that she knew came from that place deep inside that suspected she was crazy. She had needed him with a desperation that shocked her, and he had responded to her demands with an intensity even deeper than he had shown before. Without a word, he had known what she was telling him, and he had soothed her, calmed her frayed nerves, renewed them with bliss and delight.

They arrived on the small rocky beach at the Point of Buckquoy, facing the Brough of Birsay, with the water at low tide. The causeway stretched out before them, a pathway wide enough for the two of them to walk hand in hand across to the island that remained cut off from the Mainland for the majority of the day. The day was ending but the sun lingered, and warm light suffused the way ahead. As Bella stepped onto the path that would take her to this deserted island, she felt that she was on a pilgrimage. There was a processional feel to their journey as they made their way along the narrow stone road. On each side was the sea, waiting for the tide to change, waiting to swallow up the ground they now stood on. Bella gripped Edward's hand even tighter as they walked the ancient pathway.

Once they reached land they traversed the island quickly, ignoring the tiny visitors' centre with its shuttered windows and not stopping to look among the ruins left behind by others who had also considered the island important. They climbed down to a stony beach on the other side and stared at the Atlantic. Sule Skerry was visible in the distance, but it was so far away on the horizon that it might have been halfway to America. Bella pulled off her clothes and stood in a swimsuit, shivering with nerves. There had been an odd conversation with Edward about what to wear ... Well, what is appropriate for a magical adventure beyond the realms of possibility? In the end Bella decided on swimwear and ignored Edward's tongue-in-cheek suggestion to fashion herself a costume made from seaweed and shells.

"Tell me again," Bella demanded, as she stood there, just a step away from the water. "Just go over it again, please."

Edward nodded. "Ye'll feel the effects of my bite after about ten minutes. Then ye should dive deep under the water and swim. Ye will be able to swim fast and ye'll nae need oxygen for a guid while. Swim to Sule Skerry. When ye get there, go to yer right. Ye will find a cave under the water. Once inside, follow the curve of the tunnel until it narrows, then widens. Ye will see the Odin Stone attached to the wall. The seaweed ropes hae been twisted together to make them strong. Cut them until it is released but leave the one looped around the hole in the stone. Use that one to drag it behind ye as ye swim hame."

"How can I pull it? It is taller than me and made of rock!" Bella knew Edward's answer but her uncomprehending mind needed the explanation again.

"We hae put a peerie spell on it. So long as it remains underwater it will be light enough for ye to tow. The moment 'tis exposed to daylight it will become heavy. By the time ye return to this spot, I will be here wi' the others to help drag it out of the water."

Edward turned to face her. "Remember to keep underwater on the way back. Dinnae swim to the surface, nor let the stone see the sun."

Bella understood that this was the part worrying him. She would need enough of the venom in his bite to last until she returned to the Brough of Birsay. If she took too long, she risked running out of this ability to swim underwater, and the stone would be lost. Bella knew the trolls were not going to listen to excuses. The deal was to deliver the stone to land, or Rose and Alice were to remain in their clutches. She nodded silently, feeling her skin prickle with dread and anxiety. Tears threatened to escape. She blinked rapidly to chase them away.

Edward saw it all. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her hair, murmuring words in a low voice to her. Sweeping her hair to the side he whispered into her ear, "Dinnae be feart. Ye can dae this." Bella's juddering sigh made him squeeze her tighter. "I'd nae let ye try if I dinnae think ye could dae it, Bella."

"Yes, I believe you," Bella told him, allowing his reasoning to soothe her. "It's time. Bite me."

Edward chuckled and searched with his fingers upon her neck for a spot. After a minute his fingers had settled but he made no move. He seemed to hesitate, his body a stone statue touched by Medusa's glare. His inaction was unnerving. Bella called out, "Edward, now, please!"

"Aye," he replied, his voice a little gruff. "I'll try to nae hurt ye. Stay still."

Bella braced herself and waited for his teeth to nip her soft skin. Sure enough, there was sharp pain, a flash of light inside her eyelids as she tried to block out this strangest of sensations. His grip was like iron, and she had to force herself to stand still, to not push him away or to cry out with hurt. Then he withdrew his teeth, laved his tongue over where his teeth had sunk into her and kissed the spot with a conciliatory kiss.

Bella gulped in a lungful of air and opened her eyes. Everything was the same as before. They were still standing by the sea, she was still human, and she would surely drown herself in this vast ocean. She cast her eyes up to the grass in the distance and wondered if the tide was still low, if the causeway was still passable. Her cottage was waiting...

Edward brought her chin back to gaze into his eyes. "Bella," he spoke as if in a fog, a murky haze. "Ye must go now. It's started."

Her feet felt like lead blocks as she turned back to the sea. This didn't seem real. She felt confused and angry. There was no venom. It was all a lie, an elaborate trick. Edward saw her incomprehension play out on her face, none of the puzzle pieces fitting anymore. He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the sea. She let herself be towed along behind him, the stones under their feet sliding a little, turning and settling again. He kept going until they were in waist deep, the water lapping at their skin.

"Feel the water, Bella," he urged her. "'Tis warm, is it not?"

He was right, the water was warm around her, not the freezing cold it should have been. A laugh of incredulity bubbled up from somewhere inside her. The venom was working! Doubt started to ebb away and clarity came to her. She must start swimming now, with no more delays. Without hesitation she plunged into the waves and swam. Push and slice, push and slice through the water. Stretching her arms and legs against the tide seemed delicious, an entirely new sensation that had miraculously been gifted to her. And it was easy. The water seemed to propel her forward, support her, with no resistance and no forces against her. She moved forward and forward until she came to a gradual pause and allowed herself to hang there in the waves. She turned her head to the shore and saw Edward standing there where she had left him. The evening sun fell on his shoulders and he was still, as still as the first night she had seen him standing in her garden. Now it was him on the land and her in the sea, just her head bobbing above the water as proof she was there. She raised her hand to him in a salute. He raised his arm in return, and they both knew it was time to go underwater.

_Azure._ The water was bright blue with the late evening sun shining through it. Bella was surrounded by water, trying hard to push away her disbelief, her fear that her lungs would burst. She swam, holding her breath. What next? How long before she ran out of air? She knew what Edward had told her. She would not need oxygen; her body would gather air from the water around her. All would be well.

What if he was wrong?

Thirty seconds passed. She waited for her body to panic. She wondered when she would start to feel the urge to push up to the surface to gulp in fresh air.

A minute passed. She waited for her lungs to squeeze and contort, twist themselves into strange shapes, desperate to wring out every last molecule of oxygen left in them.

Another minute passed. She waited for blackness to come, for her lungs to burn from the lack of oxygen, or her mouth to open and let the water rush in, drowning her.

But she swam. Her body felt peaceful, serene. There was no panic, no desperate flailing or thrashing against the sea. Edward's affirmations were correct. She could survive this journey. She gave silent thanks in her head that he had been right.

_Cerulean._ The water shimmered in front of her eyes, light playing on the currents and invisible twists and pulls which she was now becoming more subtly aware. Her body felt strong and swift. There was elation in her heart as she swam deeper and deeper, allowing herself to believe that Sule Skerry was waiting for her.

_Cobalt._ Now the water was a fraction darker, further from the sky and truly a foreign place. Bella allowed her body to swim on, adjusting to the feeling of not having to worry about breathing. She almost smiled as she swam, feeling as at ease as if she were a marathon runner testing a new track, or a bird of the sky submitting itself to the sky's thermals, or a base jumper launching from a lofty mountain top, knowing that all would be well. The parachute would float to the ground and all the jumper had to do was let go and enjoy the journey. Her heart brimmed over, her joy spilling out. She was flying through the sea, traversing the depths of the ocean and it felt so natural she marvelled that she had never been here before. She thought of Edward and how this was his habitat. How could she have ever doubted his pull to the sea, his need to be part of it?

_Ultramarine. _The water became darker blue and yet still she swam, her body functioning perfectly, as if she were meant to be here. Now she could see small fish pass her, ignoring her presence as if she were an integral part of their surroundings. They darted and flickered, scattering and reforming in their groups. Bella pushed on and resisted the urge to stay and watch them, their underwater dance entrancing and playful. She thought about returning to the surface and allowing her eyes to register if the island of Sule Skerry was near but her time in this other world was limited. How long had she been swimming? There was no way of knowing. No, she kept her course and swam, hoping that Edward was again right, and she was heading in the correct direction.

_Prussian. _The waters became darkest blue, almost black. She was still swimming deep and fast. There was so little light, the metres of water above her filtering out the Simmer Dim's gentle sky. How easy was it going to be to find the cave? As she pushed on Bella began to worry. Finding the cave in good time was of the utmost importance; she could not afford to lose her way and become lost. The need to check where she was grew and weighed heavily on her until she gave in and found herself changing her angle, so that she was not only swimming forward but toward the water's surface.

The Prussian blue of the water gradually became sapphire, which in turn became turquoise as Bella neared the surface. Trepidation held her back for a moment and then she pushed herself up through the ceiling of water and allowed herself to re-enter the world she had briefly vanished from.

There in front of her was the rugged outline of Sule Skerry, a landscape of rock and mystery, a brooding hulk of grey in the semi-darkness.

And in between Bella and this isle were an unfamiliar and unblinking pair of eyes, belonging to a creature unknown.

Bella Swan was not alone.

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feart - afraid

peerie – small

Simmer Dim – the name for the barely dark nights as the days are so long in summer

One more chapter to go. It will be soon. Yes, I know I said that last time, sorry about that. Thanks for reading!


	21. I Must Go Down to the Sea Again

**Thank you to dellaterra for her beta work and HoochieMomma for pre-reading duties. All mistakes are mine.**

**Thank you if you are still reading.**

**SM still owns.**

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**Brief recap – In an attempt to rescue Alice and Rose from the hill trows Bella must swim miles into the ocean to find the Odin Stone. The trows will exchange the girls for the stone but to find it Edward must bite Bella so that his venom will give her the ability to swim underwater for long enough. He fears that the venom will only work once and so this means Bella will never be able to share Edward's underwater world with him. However Bella has set off and although she has reached Sule Skerry, where the stone is being kept in a cave, she has surfaced to find that she is not alone.**

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When Bella was a child she owned a cat. He was a solitary creature, preferring to venture into the house only to eat and then skulk back outdoors. But occasionally he would find a patch of sun on Bella's bedroom floor and allow the heat to warm his fur and bones. Bella would hang off her bed and watch him stretch his legs in appreciation for the rare display of Forks sunshine. Then he would open his eyes and return her stare. His eyes were green, watchful and full of secrets. Bella wished he would tell her one, reveal a tiny fragment of a mystery he knew about. Hidden in those gimlet eyes were untold stories and unshared knowledge. Bella longed to unlock the secrets she knew were there.

And now, staring into this strange pair of eyes, Bella Swan had the same sensation.

The stranger was no animal, but she knew it could not be entirely human. Bella's instincts told her the supernatural was at work here, for they were miles out in the ocean with no boat or ship around. It was womanlike – a mermaid or a sea goddess. Bella tried to sort through what she knew of Orkney folklore to identify the creature she was facing, but retrieving any information was like catching sand falling through a sieve. Her eyes were a viridescent green, and they held Bella's gaze in a vicelike grip. She had clear white skin with prominent cheekbones and a high forehead, which gave her a regal look. The woman's hair was long with curls that disappeared under the waves. She was unnaturally still in the water, while Bella moved her legs, kicking beneath the waves, a habit from a lifetime of survival in deep water. The sea woman gave her a smile, an expression kind and gentle enough for Bella to try to quash her first feeling, which had been to panic and disappear into the sea again, despite the fact she was the stranger in a strange land.

The woman, silent and serene, continued her watchful consideration of Bella. There seemed to be a question in the air, hanging between them, but Bella was powerless to fathom it. She wrestled with opening her mouth and asking for some vital information but suddenly it was too late. The sea woman turned her head and dipped under the waves, leaving Bella alone. The water hardly rippled; it was an instantaneous movement that left Bella blinking in confusion and suspended in indecision. Seconds later the sea woman resurfaced, her eyes searching out Bella's. Then she was gone once more.

_She wants me to follow her,_ realised Bella. Conflict rose in her, like bubbles pushing to the surface. Why should she follow this stranger? All her life she had promised her police-chief father to avoid strangers in the park, when walking home, when she was alone. She had sat through numerous classroom presentations about not trusting people you had just met, not believing someone's explanation of who they were. But she was in the middle of the ocean on a supernatural quest, and she didn't think the normal rules applied in this case.

She had trusted Edward, without really having enough evidence to do so. She was headlong in a world that she should have run from at the first hint of the preternatural. This was the time for believing in your instincts, she told herself as she stared at the void where the stranger had been. Sule Skerry was a shadowy outline in the distance. There the cave where the Odin Stone lay was waiting. She had to trust that this stranger had some part to play in helping her get there. Perhaps this had been orchestrated by Edward – this unexpected help must have come from his request. But why had he not said anything to her? Maybe it would seem as if he were breaking the trows' stipulations that Bella had to do it alone. There was no time to ponder the different possibilities. Bella decided to give herself over to her instincts, and pray that they were not wrong. The sea covered her again as she sank below the surface, welcoming her back to its tourmaline world.

Bella swam in the direction of the stranger, praying her decision was the right one. A minute later, metres down, she saw the shimmering figure, her pale face glowing with luminescence, a small smile on her lips, her hair a beautiful auburn halo around her. She flipped around and swam away, Bella following, half-wondering if she would see feet or a mermaid's tail when she was close enough to the sea woman. But she moved too fast, with a gown that twirled and spun in the water, and Bella could not tell.

The stranger swam fast and fluidly, cutting through the water as if she was indeed creature of the sea. Bella struggled to not feel clumsy and slow in comparison and made herself concentrate on keeping up. A huge part of her was glad not to be alone, despite the small voice inside that questioned the wisdom of trusting this stranger. They made their way onward, going deep into the sapphirine sea.

Then in front of them there was a rock face. Bella felt both relief and consternation. She had reached the island; now there was the difficult task of finding the cave and retrieving the stone. But the stranger swam on, and Bella followed. The underwater world was now full of jagged rocks, menacing shadows, and gritty water. Everything felt murky, and the water seemed to pull her in different directions. She had to fight to stay in position, in case the swell of the waves slammed her against the rocky underwater cliff. The sea woman glanced behind her at times to make sure Bella was still there, still trusting in her and in this mysterious journey. There was no sound in Bella's head except for the rhythmic pounding of her heart. On and on they swam through the water, dark and strange.

Then there was the woman, still and waiting. Bella swam up to her and trod water, watching her face for a sign. Small fish flitted around them, darting and dancing. The stranger raised a long, elegant finger and beckoned Bella to follow her. As Bella turned to do so, she realised there was an entrance, a cave-like hollow in the rock face. Touching the cold side of it, she wondered how long it would have taken her to find it alone. But there was no time to dwell on this. They swam inside.

At the back of the cave, just as Edward had said, there was a smaller entrance to a tunnel. Now the sea was the darkest she had encountered on this strange journey, the light so poor she worried that the stone would be invisible to them. But the sea woman seemed unconcerned. Within a minute Bella realised her eyes were readjusting enough for her to make out the walls and roof of this passageway. The small fish had accompanied them too, and their tiny scales shone with an iridescent light, which added to the amount she could distinguish.

Suddenly the sea woman halted. Bella wanted to gasp but stopped herself. They gazed at the wall in front of them.

There was the Odin Stone, a tall monolith, its whiteness glowing in the dark cave like a candle trying to burn brightly. Seaweed draped it like an ancient curtain and barnacles, tiny sea jewels, had attached themselves to it as if to adorn it. Bella approached the ancient rock, sweeping off the seaweed and feeling its freezing coldness with her hands. There was the hole in its centre; the natural gap which caused it to be so celebrated among the land folk and the trolls. If Bella had not been underwater she would have shed a tear of joy at finally reaching it.

Wasting no time, the woman had taken a large seashell and was cutting through the twisted cords of seaweed which bound it to the wall. Bella reached down for the diving knife that Edward had strapped to her leg. She unsheathed it and began sawing through the ropes the selkies had made years before to attach the stone to the wall of this small cave and keep it hidden from their enemies. Strand by strand, the hold on the stone loosened and it began to tremble as it started to become detached from its fixings. Bella began to worry that the stone would fall on top of them – or worse, crash to the ground and lie like a shipwreck, immobile on the cave floor, making a bed for itself among the sand and shells. But Edward's words came back to her. _"We hae put a peerie spell on it. It will be light enough for ye tae carry, so long as ye di'na let the sunlight reach it."_

At that moment the stone was wrenched free from its hold. It wavered in the waves and then seemed to float, as if it were balsa wood or a child's bath toy, refusing to be weighed down by the pull of the water. Bella touched it. It felt solid and cold – so cold – but it was light. There was no heaviness, no impossible drag for her to fight against. As she marvelled at this magic, she realised that the stone was moving. The sea woman had slipped the rope looped around the stone's opening over her head and she was towing it out of the cave, through the narrow tunnel, and into the larger cave. Bella had no option but to swim after her and pray that this was not going to end with the stone disappearing out of her sight, a white flash in the distance with the stranger leaving Bella behind. But no, they exited the cave and entered again the water at the edge of the island, the rocks of Sule Skerry at the back of them, the way home in front of them.

The sea woman paused and waited for Bella to catch up. Then they were face to face, serene green eyes staring into brown questioning ones. The sea creature grasped Bella's arm and squeezed it gently. Clarity came quickly, like a sudden glimpse of a hidden room full of treasures. With a jolt, Bella was filled with an understanding. There was nothing for her to fear. As if she had been infused with a calming enchantment, she knew now that the Odin Stone was going home to the trolls and the fate of Alice and Rose was assured. Nothing was going to stop her.

The sea woman lifted the rope of seaweed, as soft and slippery as warm leather, from across her torso and hooked it over Bella's head and under one arm. Bella realised she would be on her own now, and the responsibility felt heavy and daunting. How to thank her though, this stranger who had guided her without a word or need of an explanation? Before Bella could ponder this more, she was gone. There was a shimmer of diaphanous silk and she was metres away. She turned once, her curls swimming around her china-white face with its tranquil smile, and then she vanished in the distance. Bella was alone again.

She swam, her energy never flagging. The stone stayed behind her, content to be towed along in her path as they danced a delicate allemande through the water.

Fish seemed to trail in her wake like the ribbons of a kite, flying through the water, dancing in the current they created. The colours changed again, so many shades of blue and green that Bella had never seen before. She tried to snap them into her memory, but they were quick and elusive. She did not hear her heart pounding in fear and apprehension now, but rather in excitement. There was certainty in every stroke she made through the water. The beach was straight ahead and the stone was on its way to land.

Bella had loved the sea before, loved the shock of salty, freezing water and the invigoration of its brutal terms. The sea was in charge, always, bending its will for no one. When it claimed Jacob for its own, Bella was left alone. Jacob had gambled with the ocean's rules, and lost. There was no more need to jump from the high cliffs into the foam and rage of the waves, no allure any longer for the sting of salt on her skin or a breathtaking punch to her body as she flew through the air and impacted with the moving wall of water. But now, the sea and Bella were reconciled. The damage done by that day many years before was gone, kissed better by this journey under the wall, through the pavonine playground she was now privy to.

The water began to feel different. A slight change in temperature perhaps, or a different hue to her surroundings, but Bella felt sure she was coming nearer to her destination. Edward's warning that she should not let the stone see sunlight was foremost in her mind as she considered allowing her head to briefly surface, to gauge where she was. But she pushed on, keeping away from the water's surface. This was her underwater sojourn, and she felt she should protect the stone and herself from the light and the world above. There was a task to be completed and Bella wanted it to be done right. And she didn't want to leave the sea, didn't want to step out and leave behind the world she was desperate to stay in for a while longer.

On and on she swam.

Tiny fish flitted past her, keeping her company, showing her the way ahead.

Seaweed tickled her legs and Bella felt sure she would feel the wet sand under her feet if she drew herself upright.

Suddenly her ears focussed themselves. Edward was near. He was calling her. Heart pounding, emotions conflicting, her instinct for him took over and she broke the surface.

Feeling the air on her skin, she gasped. Letting herself breathe oxygen into her lungs with a ragged pull, she left her ocean paradise and rejoined the world of the land folk.

She had not been wrong. There was Edward, wading toward her, his broad shoulders and powerful torso illuminated by the early morning sun. She could only stand and stare as he raced toward her. And then unexpectedly he was gone again and she was underwater, yanked downwards. The spell was broken; the stone regained its true weight and it was sinking, taking her with it.

There was no panic. Bella let herself land on the seabed under the waves, and she waited. There was no need to breathe, no requirement for oxygen and no surprise that this was the case. But the rope of weeds began to strain and cut into her sharply; she reached to pull it from her, and suddenly Edward was there, his hands grasping the bindings and finishing the job. Then she was out, out the water, away from the Odin Stone, returned to Edward.

"Bella," he told her. "Ye did it, ye precious lass."

Peter, Garrett, and Eleazar were lifting the stone from the water and pulling it toward land. Bella watched as they struggled with the weight of it, marvelling that she had brought it safely from the cave.

"I did it," she repeated, letting relief flood her. Alice and Rose would be saved. It had all been worth it.

Edward kissed her and she felt as if every drop of water on her skin was surely evaporated with the rush of heat that surged through her. Her knees buckled as a moment of dizziness suddenly overwhelmed her. But nothing detracted from her feeling of triumph, and with Edward's arm around her waist, they walked back to the beach to gaze upon her prize.

Their companions had manoeuvred the stone to dry land and were standing around it. They were alternating their admiring glances between Bella and the stone that had been so long hidden from all.

"Ye did well, Bella," said Peter as Edward and Bella joined them.

"And fast tae," added Garrett. "We never expected ye tae make such guid time."

"I had help," announced Bella, who was certain that the sea woman had been an undisclosed part of their plan, for some reason.

"Wha' dae ye mean, ye had help?" said Edward. All four men were stock-still, waiting for her explanation.

Bella began to feel apprehensive and less sure of her conviction. "I had help…from a woman, a woman in the sea. She swam with me, helped me find the stone, pointed me in the right direction to get home. I thought she was one of you perhaps?" Her voice suddenly felt very small.

The men were looking at each other with strangely disconcerted expressions. Suddenly Eleazar lifted one of Bella's hands into the light. He seemed to be examining it for something.

"Ha!" he exclaimed, releasing her hand. "I do believe she has the selkie blood in her."

Bella stared at Edward in disbelief. He looked back at her.

"Of course," he said as if something important was becoming clear. "Ye have relatives here, aye? Ye hae family history here?"

"Yes," she replied hesitantly. "What does this mean? Who was it who helped me?"

"The Mither o' the Sea," answered Edward and he gripped her hand tightly in excitement. The rest of the small group nodded.

"The who?" she asked.

Eleazar took over with an explanation. "The Mither o' the Sea is a guardian, the protector of the summer sea. She battles with her rival, Teran, and confines him to the bottom of the sea for her half of the year. Then she warms the waters and brings growth and life to every living thing. When winter comes, Teran has his revenge, sending rages and bitter cold to the waves. But every year, she takes her summer residence here, mother to all in the sea. She was helping ye Bella, because this is her kingdom, and just as she hears the cries of every drowning man, she must have known your mission."

"Have you ever seen her?" Bella asked Eleazar, who shook his head. Then each of the other men shook their heads also. "Why me? Why would she help me like this?"

"Tis a gift fae her, Bella. Di'na question it," said Edward, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it. Bella swallowed hard but could not dismiss the look of confusion from her face.

Eleazar laughed gently. "There is nae mistake, lass. Ye hae selkie blood in ye, many generations ago mayhap, but it is there. The Mither recognised ye as one of her own."

Peter and Garrett were looking at Bella with a new admiration. "D'ye ken whit this means, Edward?" one of them ventured.

"Aye," he replied. "I'm a blind fool for nae seeing it afore."

They shook their heads in unison. "No, ye daft gumf. Bella is one of our ain. She can swim again. She can travel to Finfolkaheem."

The sun chose that moment to break over the horizon and the landscape was suddenly filled with golden light. There was silence until a pair of fulmars flew overhead and called a morning greeting to the party on the beach, standing motionless as they allowed the news to sink in. A passerby would have wondered at the oddness of it all, especially as the three men began to lug an enormous white stone with a curious hole in its centre toward higher ground, and a young woman dragged a tall man to the water's edge before diving under the foam.

"It wasn't the only time I can survive under the sea!" she announced as if she needed to say it aloud to both of them for it to be real. "I need to swim again. Take me to Finfolkaheem?"

Edward hesitated, still in shock. "No Bella, ye need to rest, I am takin' nae mair chances the day."

Bella advanced further into the water as he spoke. "Come on then. Let's go home and we can… rest."

She winked at him before disappearing under the waves. Edward laughed to himself, relieved this long night was over and that Alice and Rose would soon be released. He was immensely proud of Bella's determination and her success in returning the stone. The realisation that she was still free to swim under the sea and could travel to Finfolkaheem with him whenever she liked, allowing them the best of both worlds, filled him with happy elation. He dived under the sea and found her there, waiting for him. She kissed him, her hair billowing around her like streamers, her eyes vibrant with happiness. Then, hands linked together, they swam toward Bella's beach where the small white croft with the orange tiled roof waited for them to return.

* * *

**The chapter title comes from an adaptation of the first line of Sea Fever by John Masefield. I like to think Bella could relate to these lines**

_**"I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide**_  
_**Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied"**_

**peerie - small**

**ain - own**

**ken- know**

**guid - good**

**gumf – fool**

**mair – more**

**It was said that children of the selkies had a small webbing between the fingers, which is why Eleazar examined her hands. (In this instance Bella does not have it.) In case you are wondering, Bella's selkie ancestor is Alistair.**

**Short epilogue to follow in a few days. I am also going to post the outtakes, including a chapter about Edward asking for permission to use the Odin Stone as a bartering tool, which was written for the No Kid Hungry fundraiser.**


	22. Epilogue

**Stephenie Meyer still owns these characters.**

**A few thank yous;**

**To Becksishere for my beautiful banner. I love it as much today as the first time I saw it.**

**To the TSA girls, for their support and sometimes telling me to get on with it.**

**To the wonderful HoochieMomma, my prereader, who gave me constant encouragement and support. Thank you so much.**

**To the super wonderful dellaterra, my beta. She has given so much of her time to The Selkie Man and given me endless patience and support. My debt is huge. Thank you multiplied by a thousand.**

**One more at the end.**

* * *

One Year Later

Bella stood in the bookshop and tried to look calm. Stacks of her novel, the cover glossy and colourful, lay piled up on the table, ready for her to sign. To her surprise, the seats were steadily filling with interested locals and curious tourists, eager to hear a short reading from this up-and-coming writer. She glanced at her parents, glad and relieved that they seemed to love Orkney as much as she did, despite the fact it had rained continuously since their arrival.

Then she sought out the dark shiny hair of Alice and the sandy tousled hair of Jasper. They were sitting close together, fingers intertwined and beaming at Bella, delighted to be there to support her on this important day. Alice had recovered from her unexpected visit with the trows, bouncing back into her life with the energy and enthusiasm she always possessed. Bella and Edward had listened to her recount the event until Alice had exhausted herself. After Edward offered her a soothing drink, she had slept until the sun set and rose again. When she woke she remembered nothing much at all of what had happened and Bella knew that the memories were buried so deep they would perhaps only flicker and dance in her dreams.

For Rose there had been the same drink and the same outcome. What Bella didn't understand was that the islanders too seemed to be convinced that Rose had never been gone. Rose's parents and Mike accepted her back into their lives as if she had only been away for a short holiday. And when Bella returned to the library to check the newspapers there was no mention of a young woman, home for study leave, who went missing, presumed drowned.

"How did you do it?" asked Bella, mystified by this feat.

Edward had smiled. "We hae our ways," he replied. "But it would'na be doing for me tae tell ye them all." Bella pushed him to reveal more but he only answered in the riddles he loved to torment her with.

"Folk love tae haiver," he said. "Sometimes, they forget wha' they were haiverin about."

This explained nothing. Bella had narrowed her eyes and called him sleekit.

"Aye," he laughed. "We're sleekit alright. Years of practise."

The reputation of the fearsome Finfolk must have been connected to these powers they possess, Bella had mused as she had gazed at the latest photograph Rose had sent from Aberdeen. It showed the new family, Rose and Mike smiling into the camera, while their round-faced baby, Nina, reached her hand up to Rose's cheek. They would never come back to live in Orkney again, another mysterious trick planted by Edward's folk to keep them far away from the hill trows. While they had given up the girls in return for the Odin Stone, according to the agreement, Edward was not giving them another opportunity to steal Rose away. For Alice, her home was now in the States with Jasper, and despite this short return to Orkney, Edward was satisfied that four thousand miles would separate the trows from their latest former captive.

Bella could see Donald Carlisle talking to the bookshop owner, and knew he was soon going to introduce her to the room of people. She swallowed hard and tried to steady her breathing. But there was only one thing she needed and that was the calm, green eyes of Edward on her. She looked to her left and there he was, standing still, leaning on a bookcase, and staring right back at her. His suit, not often used, hung on him in a way that made Bella want to peel it right off him. His crazy hair was barely tamed and there was a slight scruff on his cheek. Thinking of it made her touch her own cheek, as if she could feel the touch of his skin on hers right this moment. He smiled at her, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking and she threw him a mock scowl. She needed to be composed, not melting at the thought of him touching her. His emerald eyes twinkled as he continued to share her thoughts.

It had been an unexpected consequence of his bite and her first trip into the waves. They had become so in tune with each other's thoughts that they often spent long periods of time without exchanging a word. This was, of course, particularly useful when they were under the sea, swimming to Finfolkaheem, or Hether Blether, or any of the places Edward wanted to show her. She had swum around the wreck of the H.M.S. Hampshire, jumped off the cliffs Edward had made his playground as a child, and explored the island of Sule Skerry where Charles had disappeared all those years ago, before diving into the water again and returning home.

Finfolkaheem intrigued her the most. It was a world underwater, a series of tunnels and chambers, and a great hall where the curtains shimmered and changed colour. It was adorned with long-lost treasures, beautiful objects and multitudes of jewels from ancient shipwrecks. The sadness Bella felt when she considered the catastrophe of sunken ships was tempered when Edward revealed many of those lost at sea had joined this hidden world. She had been warmly welcomed by most of Edward's community, although Tanya, with her shining gold hair, had offered only a frosty greeting. But Bella trusted Edward enough to agree to spend the four or five darkest and coldest winter months there with him. The rest of the year was to be spent in Mike's mother's cottage, now their home on land, ideal for the long Orkney summers and easy access to the sea. And of course, Bella would travel to Forks once a year to visit her parents, with a detour to visit Alice and Jasper in their new home. Edward had promised to accompany her someday although he looked uneasy about aeroplane travel, despite the number of times Bella tried to explain the theory of aviation to him.

"Do you have a passport?" she had asked him.

He had shaken his head and laughed. "Di'na fret, lass. There are ways."

Esme McNab was in the audience, sitting straight backed in her chair. Bella smiled at her and Esme smiled too, and allowed herself a discreet nod in Edward's direction, for Bella's eyes only. Bella blushed and grinned back. "There is a special connection between the women in our family and the selkies," had been her warning and it had proved true. Edward was her destiny and now Orkney was her home.

The night she had swum to Sule Skerry had changed everything. After she stepped out of the ocean she felt a bond between her and this place become steadfast and solid. It was as if she had not only set free the Odin Stone but set herself free from her former existence. Her life so far had consisted mainly of studying – with her happiest memories being in the sea at La Push with Jacob. Now she saw that happiness return to her tenfold with the love that Edward enveloped her in. Everything in her life seemed to lead to this decision – to stay here, make a home with Edward, on the land and in the sea. Forks would always be her childhood home, a place of security, love and community. But to bide in Orkney felt preordained, now that she could swim as fast and long as Edward and the water was warm and welcoming. Charlie and Renee had accepted her decision, especially when they saw the change in her. She had returned for a visit at the end of the summer with a confidence and a poise that had grown from somewhere. And when she spoke of Edward there was no denying the sparkle in her eyes. They had teased her about her new use of Scottish words; _dreich, fankle_ and _muckle _being her favourites, but they could see they were losing her to this tiny island, thousands of miles from them … but they would never stand in the way of what made her happy.

Donald began his introduction. He talked about Isabella Swan and how she came to be here, so far from her hometown. He talked about how fate had brought her here. He talked about how she had come to Orkney to finish her manuscript and gather folk tales to take back to America, but that wasn't why they were here today. She had written a new novel, an elegiac, mysterious blend of ancient folklore and modern island life. It had found a publisher in record time and was already being reviewed in newspapers and on radio shows. "A story too fantastical to be true, but too compelling to put down," wrote one critic, and Edward had chuckled. Truth is stranger than fiction, the two of them had agreed as they walked to the Odin Stone, repositioned in its old place, as if it had never been away. For a moment of fun they had joined hands through the gap in the stone and made promises to each other, just as islanders had done in handfasting ceremonies for centuries. When Edward kissed her hand, Bella thought of the day he had first done that, standing in the quiet of her garden, the sun just leaving the horizon, and how much had happened since then.

"I love ye, Bella," he had told her seriously, when they had unhooked their hands and turned their backs on the standing stone that had helped unlock the secrets of Bella's past. "Ye are my life now."

"And you are mine," she had replied, and it had felt as if they were standing on the top of the world, with every small rock and patch of moss, every grain of sand on Orkney's beaches, every fish exploring the sea, every bird circling in the sky in the right place. Everything was as it should be.

Bella allowed herself a last look at Edward's reassuring smile, a smile that told her of love and devotion, then she stepped forward and began to read.

THE END.

* * *

haiver – to talk, gossip

sleekit – clever, cunning

bide – to stay, dwell

dreich – dull, dreary

muckle - large, great

fankle – to be in a muddle

* * *

To anyone who has read this story, my last thank you is to you. At whatever point you took a chance on The Selkie Man, I thank you for reading. Alerts, reviews and pm's – they have helped me to get to the end. Thank you so much.


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